The Prodigal Daughter
by iluvfanfics1
Summary: Four years ago, Ginny Weasley left England to find herself. Now she's back and with a few surprises. Four years ago, Harry Potter let Ginny walk away without telling her the truth. Will he be able to be honest with her this time?
1. Chapter 1 Memories of a Departure

The young women paused in the doorway, turned back around and took one last, long look at the apartment behind her. It was completely empty now and she allowed herself one more moment of nostalgia, soaking in the echoes of a thousand after -dinner conversations, a million peals of laughter, and the peace that washed over her every time she had stepped in the doorway of her Paris home. It wasn't very big but it was charming and she had treasured every solitary inch of it. Whenever she thought about another tenant living here, putting different pictures on the white plaster walls, throwing different rugs down on the polished wood floors, and arranging new furniture in the sun filled rooms, when she had spent so long getting everything just right, her heart clenched.

She had by chance already met the new tenant two weeks ago. She'd been on her way out of the front door to meet some friends at the nightclub three blocks away. They were celebrating the end of their senior exams at the university they attended and she was running late beyond the agreed upon hook-up time. Her landlord had stopped her in the lobby of the old house where the woman owned four other apartments and introduced her to a petite girl with soft blond-hair and a hopeful look on her face. Her heart had gone out to the woman as she was reminded her of herself four years ago when she had first come to this city. Wide-eyed and searching but older than she looked. Nothing and everything had surprised her back then. When you've survived the imminent threat of mass destruction, you can pretty much put up with anything.

With a final sigh, the woman turned back around to face the hallway, picked up the canvas satchel at her feet and settled the long strap diagonally across her chest. She had already sent the rest of her things ahead and all that was left was for her to make her way to the Paris International Portkey office. She was glad she had chosen to leave this way. No big fanfare, just a final walk through the neighborhood that had been her home the past four years. She paused outside on the sidewalk, her waist length red hair swinging with the sudden halt, and took a final sniff of the familiar air. It was 7:30 a.m. and the local shops were just beginning to open. She could smell the bread baking at the bakery shop four doors down and the first whiffs of petrol as Mr. Zamir from across the street started his automobile–the only car on the block. She heard the familiar sounds of Jean Paul setting up his newsstand for the day and the tingling of the bicycle bells as young boys raced by her on their way to the local muggle school.

It was Paris in October–the air was crisp and the leaves were a mix of oranges, yellows and red. It was her favorite time of the year in France and now she wouldn't be there to enjoy it. On the other hand, she reflected, her high heel boots making rhythmic clicking noises on the sidewalk as she walked to the portkey office, perhaps it was best that she was leaving at such a high point of the year. She would always have this last morning in Paris when everything seemed right in the world. The next few months were going to be difficult, she knew that, but this last morning of peace might sustain her.

"And," she whispered to herself, "I could always come back if it gets too tough."

But she knew that was a lie. She wouldn't come back. She had run here four years ago, looking desperately for something she could sense she had lost and had indulged herself.  
For once she had chosen to think about herself instead of her family and friends, instead of those she loved, and jumped at the chance to attend the 4-year Wizarding University that had offered her a scholarship to study transfiguration and charms. She had surprised everyone with her decision. She was the youngest of seven children and six older brothers had overshadowed most her life's attempts to stand out.

Her mother had been almost hysterical when she had announced she was moving to France and her brothers had expressed confusion but her father had stood in the background waiting for the protests to quiet down before saying,

"Is this what you want? You've thought this through?"

"Yes," she had said, looking him in the eye and willing him to see the reasons in her own eyes. "I've thought about it. I really need to do this."

"But why?" her mother had wailed. "Everything is just starting to come back together! Why would you leave now?"

She had opened her mouth to reply but her oldest brother had stepped up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, silencing her.

"I think we all know why," he had said to his mother. "It's time for her to do things herself."

Now, as she quickened her steps to cross the street busy with early morning traffic, she remembered the look of understanding in her brother's eyes. It shouldn't have surprised her that he understood--he had always understood. He was almost 10 years older than her and had been the only brother who had ever "got her."

With a snap back to reality, she arrived at the office and took one last final check of her watch. Her portkey left in 10 minutes. She just had time to sign the paperwork before grabbing on to whatever piece of muggle junk the office had decided to use today.

Ten minutes later, after some furiously signed paperwork and two screaming children whose mother looked stressed beyond belief, the portkey activated. With a thump, the passengers landed in another office that looked remarkably similar to the one in Paris. She knew it was different though. She could tell by the pinched looks on the office worker's faces, the ruthless efficiency with which her paperwork was processed and by the unfamiliar smells as she opened the door and stepped outside into the autumn air.

For better or worse, Ginny Weasley had returned to England.

Two-hundred miles away, in a rambling and teetering farmhouse outside Ottery St. Catchpole, Molly Weasley was beside herself with anticipation. It was 8 a.m. and she was humming merrily to herself as she gathered ingredients for a breakfast so large it was sure to strain the trestles underneath the scarred, wooden tabletop it would rest on when she was finished. Her youngest child and only daughter was returning home today after a four-year absence. It had been over a year since they had last seen Ginny.

Although Ginny had never stepped foot in England the entire four years she had lived in Paris, her parents and brothers had made occasional trips to visit her. The wizarding world was still putting itself back together after the war that had threatened to destroy them and it had taken almost two years before people felt like traveling outside of England. Once they relaxed, the Weasley family had taken full advantage of visiting their only daughter and sister in France.

Molly stopped whipping pancake batter long enough to remember the first time they had visited Ginny in Paris. It had been springtime and over a year since they had seen her. When the portkey had stopped swirling, Molly had turned to find her daughter and barely managed to stifle a gasp. Her baby girl was gorgeous and the Paris spring air seemed to caress her skin as Ginny stood up to welcome them. She had grown a bit taller but she was still petite with waist length red hair that shimmered in the Paris sun. Her large brown eyes, which had been haunted for the past six years, were bright and laughing and the strain that had shown on her face before she had left England was smoothed away.

Ginny was happy, Molly had recognized with no small amount of shock, and she had vowed to herself then and there that she wouldn't say another word about her only daughter living so far from home.

Now, as she turned to the stove to fry the pancakes, she couldn't help but make all sorts of grandiose plans of what she would do with her baby girl when she finally arrived in England.

"You're making big plans again aren't you?" a voice said behind her. Molly turned around with narrowed eyes to glare at her husband.

"So what if I am?" she asked. "It's been so long Arthur, a mother can't help it!"

Arthur snapped his newspaper flat, folded it shut on the table and stood up. He was tall and lanky and even though his bright red hair was thinning on top and a small pouch was developing on his stomach, he still took Molly's breath away when she looked into his kind eyes that, at the moment, seemed to be filled with laughter. He stepped around the table to stand it front of her and put his hands on her upper arms. His eyes searched her face for a moment and then his arms slid around her shoulders to bring her into his embrace. Her arms automatically came up around his waist and she buried her face in his chest, breathing past the lump in her throat.

"I know Molly," he murmured. "I can't help imagining either. It's been so long…" his voice trailed off as Molly pulled back and wiped her eyes on her apron.

"Well," she smiled shakily, "we'll she what she wants to do and then go from there. I'm sure she'll want to stick around for a few days anyway!" With that optimistic thought, Molly turned back to the stove and began humming again as she prepared her daughter's favorite breakfast.

His wife was probably setting herself up for disappointment, Arthur mused as he walked to the front door and stepped out onto the front porch. She was so excited about Ginny returning home and she was trying to remember that Ginny was an adult now who would probably move right back out of her parent's house as soon as she got there but she couldn't help her hopeful plans that involved Ginny spending the next 10 months living with them.

The truth was, Arthur admitted to himself, he was just as excited as his wife. He didn't hold any illusions about how long Ginny would stay with them, but his heart seemed to swell every time he thought about his little girl sleeping in her old room and sitting at the kitchen table on a regular basis. Ginny had always been a Daddy's girl and it had been extra hard for Arthur to support her decision to attend the Paris Wizarding University even though he had been the voice of reason at the time.

The night she had announced her intention to leave, after everyone had come to terms with the fact that she was serious, Ginny had stepped out onto the front porch where her father had been smoking a pipe, trying not dwell on the memories when he had taken her small hand in his to help her down the front porch steps when she was child.

"Daddy?" she had asked.

"Yes pumpkin?" he said, holding out his hand for her to take. She slipped her still small hand into his and he pulled on it to sit her down next to him on the porch swing. They rocked in silence for a moment, Ginny curled up in his embrace before he cleared his throat and said, "I know we've already talked about this, but I want to make sure, are you doing this for the right reasons?"

"What do you mean?" She replied innocently but Arthur thought he detected certain wariness in her voice. He was silent a moment longer, organizing his thoughts before slowly saying, "I just don't want you to have made this decision because you are running away."

"Running away from what?" she had asked in a low voice before pulling back from him and looking down at her hands twisting in her lap. His arm that had slipped from around her shoulders as she pulled away, landed with a small thump on the back of the porch swing.

He hesitated again, not sure if he should just come right out and say it, not wanting to scare her off when he desperately needed this moment with her.

"Running away from _him_," he finally answered. There was a pause, an intake of breath and Arthur waited for her to turn on him for having the audacity to bring this up.

After a moment, Ginny's shoulders slumped and tensed again as she stood up from the porch swing and walked over to the porch railing, leaning her hip against a column and gazing out into the moonlight-patterned yard.

"I suppose that is part of it," she said, and he could hear the quiet honesty in her voice. "But if I don't leave now, when I have this chance, I don't know if I'll ever get another one and I can't stay here and just watch while he…while the world goes on again."

She turned towards him; her eyes that had seen too much in her 17 years on this earth filled with unshed tears and took a deep breath.

"I know it sounds clichéd but I don't know who I am anymore. Most of my life, I've been teetering on the edge of what I am and what I thought I wanted and now that what I wanted isn't what I have, I need to accept that and move on."

She walked back over to him and kneeled in front of him, her hands gripping his knees with urgency.

"I need you to understand this Dad. It's not that I'm running away, it's that I know there is something inside of me that is removed from the life I have here and every part of me, including the part tied up with _him_, is screaming at me to go find it."

Arthur had set aside his pipe and took Ginny's hands from his knees, holding them in his hands.

"I know," he told her. "I've known for a long time that you would find a way to do something like this. And I came to terms with that long ago."

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on her and closing his eyes. "You've made decisions that I wish you never would have had to make," he had said quietly. "You've got more gumption, intelligence, power and bravery in your pinky finger than any other witch I know. If anyone can do this, it's you. I believe in you and I trust your judgment."

Ginny had let out a quiet sob and thrown her arms around her father. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for understanding."

Arthur had hugged her back, tightly as if she was going to slip away that very moment. "I'm so proud of you pumpkin," he had said, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.

Ginny leaned back and smiled at him, "Help mum with that okay?" she'd asked cheekily.

He had chuckled lightly and reached up a hand to smooth back her hair.

"I'll do my best but she's your mother and she has a right to worry about her children. Especially after all the trouble you've gotten into the past few years."

"Hey!" Ginny had protested. "I don't go looking for it…it just…it finds me," she had finished lamely. They had laughed quietly together and Arthur had given her once last hug before they stepped back inside to go to bed.

Four years later, Arthur stood on the same porch, his ears tuned for the soft sound of apparation that would signal Ginny's arrival.

She had done what she set out to do, he thought to himself. Ginny hadn't wanted to forget, she had just wanted to learn how to live with the memories and nightmares and vanished dreams. And while he was sad she had to move so far away in order to do so, he knew it had been the only answer at the time. It had cost her, he reflected. She had missed out on the weddings of her brothers, births of nephews and at some point, all of the Weasley brothers had needed reminding of why their sister was in a self-imposed exile. But she was strong—she would find a way back in.

He was startled out of his reflections by the sound of bubble popping behind him.

"Daddy," a voice breathed.

And Arthur Weasley turned around with open arms to welcome his youngest child home.

The early morning sun peaked through a slit in the heavy drapes and cut through the darkness in the bedroom of a wizard's house in downtown London. There was a stirring, a rustling of covers and the quiet rhythmic breathing that returned for a few more moments. Without warning, a sudden blaring pierced the quietness as the clock struck 8 a.m.

Harry Potter pulled his arm out of his tangled covers and flopped it on top of the alarm clock, silencing it. After a few more moments of silence, a groan was heard as Harry buried his face in his pillow. He _really_ didn't want to get out of bed. He had tossed and turned for hours before falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning, his mind finally shutting down the memories that had insisted on replaying over and over in his head.

With a loud sigh, he rolled over onto his side, threw back the covers and stood up, scratching at his bare chest with one hand and rubbing his head with the other. His black hair, always messy and the bane of Harry's existence, looked even sillier in the morning after a night full of tossing and turning. He took a few halting steps over to the window and threw back the drapes to let in the morning sun.

He let the brightness glare him for a few minutes hoping it would wake him up. As his eyes adjusted, the reason for his sleepless night returned in full force and his stomach gave a nauseating swooping motion.

Today was the day.

Four years, 1 month and two weeks and today was finally here. He was surprised, actually, that it had come.

After the first 18 years of his life had been spent living in a shadow that threatened to take down the entire wizarding world with it, Harry was not only reluctant to anticipate anything, but pleasantly surprised when the anticipation came to fruition. When he had received Molly Weasley's letter two weeks ago explaining that the youngest Weasley would finally be coming back to England, the memories of why she had left had returned, sending him into a lonely night of drinking trying to stop them.

It hadn't worked, he thought now ruefully, remembering when Ginny's older brother and Harry's best friend Ron had found him, cast a quick sobering charm on him and lectured him strictly on the dangers of drinking alone.

"It's all your own fault anyway," he had told Harry. "You've only yourself to blame."

"I know," Harry had moaned. "That's why I'm drinking."

"Well next time wait for me," Ron had retorted. "I might have some things I'd rather forget too." They had grinned at each other, no words needed to begin the reminiscing of some of their more harrowing adventures.

Harry sat back down on his bed with a thump thankful that, despite how he was sure this day was to turn out, he still had Ron. Ron was one of the few treasured friends who had always stood by him and was with him at the very end of the moment when Harry had finally challenged evil. Ginny had been one of those treasured friends too, Harry thought glumly, before she left to conquer her own world.

He sighed, tamping down the traitorous thoughts that threatened to place blame for her departure elsewhere. It was his own fault-- he knew that. Well, he mused, at least a good bit of it was his fault.

Ginny Weasley was…special. She was the brightest, most powerful star of her family and had surprised them all when she left England to pursue an education elsewhere. No one had expected her to make such a move, least of all Harry who had taken it for granted that she would remain after the war, standing beside him, behind him, sometimes in front of him if he was being honest about it.

He had known how she felt about him since he was 12 years old but it was easy to forget that when she was making it so easy to be just her friend. He hadn't realized how hard she worked at it. And after Voldemort was gone, there had been no reason for her to hide it. Which was, she had explained to him, exactly why she had to leave.

Harry flopped down on his back on the bed, closed his eyes and let the memory of that last conversation wash over him. He didn't like to remember it but just once, he decided, he would relive it.

He sprang up and walked across the room to the wardrobe on the opposite side of the room. He opened the door and pulled out a waist-high pedestal with a basin on top. A silver light was shining from the basin and a gray fog seemed to swirling inside the bowl. It was a pensieve--a magical device that Harry used to siphon off thoughts and memories from his head.

He walked back to his nightstand and grabbed his wand, a long polished piece of holly wood with a Phoenix-feather core and went back to the pensieve. He closed his eyes and allowed the memory of his last conversation with Ginny to come to the front of his thoughts. He put the tip of his wand to his head and slowly pulled it from his temple pulling a silvery piece of gray matter away and dropping it into the basin where it swirled around with the other thoughts. He tossed his wand back to the bed in the center of the room and turned to face the basin.

Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself for the moment he was about to face. He had never done this before with this memory. He had faced countless other memories in this pensieve that would have made grown men whimper but he never allowed himself to view this one. It was too raw, even after four years.

He peered into the swirling fog and saw a bedroom. Slowly he leaned his face forward into the bedroom and fell into the memory. He landed with a thump on the bed, grateful for once that it wasn't the ground or the hard stone floor of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that he was landing on.

He got off the bed quickly and turned in a slow circle. It was Ginny's room at the Burrow, the Weasley home outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. He had only been in there a few times preferring to hang out in Ron's room on the top floor of the house when he visited. The room was decidedly Ginny, he thought. Pale green walls, white painted furniture, a fluffy white comforter on a neatly made bed but a cluttered desktop and vanity full of Ginny's pictures and things. It was a small room, practical but girly…just like the youngest Weasley. He stopped his circle at the sight of Ginny rummaging in her closet. She gave a quick shout of triumph and turned around with her arms full of clothes and one pair of trainers in her hands. She couldn't see him, he knew and he was free to stare at the 17-year-old Ginny Weasley as she walked over to a large trunk and began forcing the items into the piece of luggage. She was packing, he remembered, for her move and there were boxes and trunks scattered throughout the room. A knock was heard on her door and Harry steeled himself for what he knew was about to happen.

"Come in," Ginny called, now on her knees in front of the trunk, forcing too many things into it.

An 18-year-old Harry opened the door and walked in. He was thin and there were shadows under his eyes that were haunted and sad but looked a little confused at the sight of Ginny packing. He looked slowly around the room taking in all the boxes and turned back to Ginny, now resting back on her heels and looking up at him with a guilty expression on her face.

"What's going on?" his younger self asked slowly. "Why are you packing up all your stuff?"

Ginny looked down at her hands resting on her jean-clad thighs and took a deep breath, steeling herself. She stood up, brushing her hands together and said firmly, "Harry there is something I need to tell you."

"I can see that," he said wryly. "What I'm wondering is why you haven't told me something before."

She walked over to him and took his left hand in hers, dragging him over to the bed and pushing him unceremoniously onto it.

"Wait," she commanded, holding up her hand as he opened his mouth to say something. "I've got something to say and it's going to be very hard for me so I need you to stay completely silent and not ask questions until I'm finished. Can you do that?"

"Okay," he said warily.

"Promise," she insisted.

"I _promise_," he said, rolling his eyes at her. "What's going on?"

Ginny took another deep breath, crossed her arms protectively in front of her body and looked him in his emerald-green eyes that always swam with so much emotion.

"Harry," she said quickly and breathily, "I'm leaving. I'm moving to Paris and I don't know when I'll be back."

There was silence. Harry sat on the bed dumbstruck at her announcement, his mouth opening and closing with jerky movements.

"Close your mouth Harry," Ginny said, her eyes twinkling, "we are not a goldfish."

"Wha…why?" Harry finally managed to get out.

Ginny's face darkened and she looked down at her bare feet. She was silent for a moment, twisting the big toe of her right foot in a circle on the carpet. She looked up and her eyes were sparkling. The Harry viewing the memory recognized them now as unshed tears although he wasn't sure he remembered knowing that at the time.

"Harry, we've always been friends." she started shakily and then stopped. "No, that's not how I want to do this," she muttered to herself before walking over to sit next to him, taking his hands in hers and twisting him to face her.

"Harry," she said softly, eyes searching his face, "We've never talked about this but I think its time we faced the fact that I…that I…that I have always felt more for you than friendship."

And there it was–the hippogriff in the room they had both ignored for the last three years. Harry had known what she meant. They had never discussed it but her feelings had always been there in the background, subtly influencing everything she did.

The Harry on the bed looked down at their joined hands and squeezed hers gently. He opened his mouth to reply but Ginny quickly freed her hand and put it over his mouth before he could speak.

"No," she said softly, "You promised you would let me speak. Please Harry, I need to get this out." His eyes met hers and he nodded, indicating she could continue.

She let go of his other hand, stood up and walked over to the window next to the bed overlooking the flower garden behind the Burrow. She stayed there and began to speak haltingly, "It feels like I've felt this way my whole life. Even before you rescued me from the Chamber of Secrets, from the moment I saw you on that train platform your first year at Hogwarts, do you remember? You asked my mum how to get on the platform and I wished you 'good luck.'"

Harry nodded to show that he did remember but she continued as if he wasn't there.

"You were so…small and innocent and I had grown up hearing the story of how Harry Potter had survived the killing curse from the darkest wizard ever known and saved our world when he was only a little boy. So I was surprised when you looked so normal, if not a bit neglected. My heart immediately went out to you…"

Harry looked down at his lap and began shaking his head back and forth; it looked like he was about to erupt.

"No," Ginny said firmly, turning to face him. "If you ever cared about me at all, you will let me say this my way." He stilled his movements and looked back up at her resignedly.

"I know you don't want to hear about any hero worship I may have felt for you Harry," she said gently. "But please know, my fascination with you was only about partly hero-worship. When I met you, a part of me opened up, a part I was sure you would one day fill. I can't explain it, it just felt…right."

She turned back to look out the window. "After you risked your life to save me from Tom Riddle, I knew my faith in you wasn't misplaced. And over the next year I convinced myself that if you would just open your eyes and see the real me, then you would realize how perfect we were for each other."

A small smile tugged at her mouth as she looked back at him. "We are you know, perfect for each other, I mean. We share the darkness that is…was…Voldemort. There are things only we can understand about each other and we have loads in common…" she trailed off and turned back to the window. "Hermione convinced me to calm down around you, to be myself and maybe then you would see me as something other than Ron's little sister. And so I did and you did, only you didn't see me the way I wanted you to."

She turned around to face him fully and shoved her hands deep into her jean pockets while she smiled ruefully at him. "We became friends and that was good. I was…am…a part of your life and you can't deny that we share something we don't share with our other friends."

At this point Harry nodded his head to show that he agreed with her. "Yes," he said hoarsely.

"But it comes to this," she said simply. "I love you. I always have from the very beginning. Every time I've stood with you and fought, every time I sat up with you and talked about our nightmares, every time I defended you to others, I did it all because I love you so completely. And that is the problem. Because so much of me is tied up with loving you that I keep forgetting you don't love me back. At least not the way I love you. And now that Tom Riddle is dead and everyone is free to live their lives the way they choose, I have to face the fact you have chosen to live your life without loving me. It's been hard to accept that, even with seeing the real me, you still aren't in love with me."

She paused to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped from her ponytail back behind her ear. "For awhile I blamed myself, thinking there must be something I was doing wrong. I was so sure you were meant for me and I for you. But the weeks went by and you still hadn't declared your undying love for me so I've finally understood that I was wrong."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "And I can't stay here and watch that dream fall apart," she said shakily.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "It isn't your fault, you can't change what you feel and I wouldn't want you to. The fault is mine. It's my fault for letting myself get caught up in you, for letting my imagination run wild. I could tell you all sorts of excuses but the truth is that I am just a girl looking for love. Real, all consuming love, the kind of love that lasts forever and I thought you were the one who could give it to me. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I couldn't get over this, that I've probably ruined our friendship but I had to tell you this," she pleaded.

"I couldn't leave without saying it. I'm not running away from you or my feelings, I just need to be elsewhere to deal with them. I couldn't…I can't stay here and watch you move on…" she broke off and breathed deeply.

"Do you understand? I have issues, I have problems. I don't know anymore where Ginny Weasley-who-loves-Harry-Potter ends and where just plain old Ginny begins. I've loved you so much, for so long, that I've forgotten why anybody would love me back." She looked at him searchingly. "Does that make sense?"

He looked at her, his green eyes piercing her brown ones, "I think so," he said softly. "But Ginny, I don't want you to leave just because…" he seemed to be struggling to put the words together, "just because we don't have that kind of relationship. I could leave instead. You shouldn't have to leave your family."

She dropped to her knees in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I'm not leaving just because of that," she said pleadingly, looking into his eyes. "Please believe me when I say that my love for you isn't driving me away. I'm not ashamed of how I feel about you; I haven't been for a long time. But you aren't in love with me and there is nothing either of us can do to change that. And if this isn't meant to be then I need to find out what is meant for me. Understand? I need to find myself. I've spent my whole life trying to prove myself to my family and now its time for me to grow up."

He put one hand on her cheek and looked at her. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," she said, standing up and brushing off her knees. "It isn't your fault, truly it isn't."

Harry looked down the hand that had just cupped her cheek and said, "Why Paris?"

"I'm going to the Wizarding University there. They've offered me a scholarship to study transfiguration and charms."

He chuckled a bit to himself. "You always were good with charms." He looked up at her uncertainly. "It sounds like a good opportunity. Are you certain this will make you happy?"

Ginny arched an eyebrow at him. The fact that she could arch just one had always amazed him and he had never been able to do it himself no matter how much she tried to teach him.

"No," she admitted, "I'm not sure it will make me happy. But then I haven't been truly happy in a long time so I don't know what will make me happy."

"And _that_," she finished darkly, "Is definitely not your fault. That is Voldemort's fault."

"Why are you just now telling me about this? When are you leaving?"

"I'm a bit of a chicken," she said sheepishly. "I knew you didn't return my feelings and that this wouldn't be the easiest conversation to have. Not very good for my ego."

She was quiet for a moment and then added, "I leave this afternoon at 3 p.m."

"What!" Harry's head shot up. "You're leaving today and you're just now telling me! I thought we were friends, how can you just spring this on me?"

"I'm _really_ sorry Harry," Ginny said. "I know I'm not being fair to you. Taking away part of your support system and everything. But it's important that you stay here. You know that is true. I need to do this. You understand, don't you? The need to get away?"

And Harry could not deny her that. He had felt that way himself. The urge to break free and discover whom he would be now that Voldemort was gone had been weighing on him but he had been reluctant to leave the Weasleys who had been more comfort to him than he had ever known.

Suddenly, the memory faded and a new one began. Harry found himself standing on the front lawn outside the Burrow with the rest of the Weasley's while the Knight Bus waited for Ginny to board. She had been making the rounds of her family, hugging them goodbye and whispering in their ears.

She looked so small, he thought, still like a little girl. But then, when she had backed away from hugging her best friend and Ron's girlfriend Hermione, he saw a glint of determination in her eyes that made her seem older. And he knew she would follow through with her plan and he knew that she needed to do this.

Fred and George were sobbing fake tears and hugging Ginny so hard she looked like she couldn't breath. "Ginny!" Fred wailed. "Don't leave us!"

"Take us with you!" George sobbed. "We have so many things still left to teach you! We can't face the world without you."

"Okay, that's enough," Ginny's oldest brother Bill said, pulling Ginny out of their grasp and thumping her on the back to get her breathing again.

"Fred!"

"George!"

And the twins were off again clinging to each other while they lamented their sister's betrayal.

Now Harry saw Bill looking tenderly down at his sister. She looked diminutive next to him and Harry watched as he put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a loving kiss on her forehead. "Be good firefly," he said in a choked whisper. "Don't get into trouble and be sure to hex anyone who stands in your way."

"I will," she said, smilingly up at him wearily. "Bill," she said chokingly, "Thanks for understanding…"

Bill wrapped his arms around her, hugging her with his eyes shut tight. "No need for thanks," he murmured. "We all understand."

Ginny pulled away and looked at them all gathered around. "I know you do. Even if you don't like it, I know you are trying. Thank you so much," she said, now earnest.

Harry couldn't take it anymore and had stepped forward for his own goodbye. They stood, looking at each other and he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. It had all happened so fast and he couldn't organize any words into something important that she could take with her. Maybe it was best that way, he decided.

He noticed her family had moved off a bit to give them some privacy. They knew, he realized. They had always known how she felt about him and that her feelings for him were part of the reason for her decision. He met Molly's eyes and she looked at him so tenderly he knew they didn't blame him. He was more grateful for that then he could express.

Ginny took the decision of what to say out of his hands when she put both of hers on either side of his face and turned his head to look at her.

"For what it's worth," she began. "I always saw _you_. I didn't fall in love with the boy-who-lived; I fell in love with just Harry. The truly brave, kind, loyal but often-sullen Harry Potter who only likes jam on his toast and thinks my mother's treacle tart is beyond description. To me, you were always Harry, the boy who spent summers at our house and who I happened to share a dark history with."

She stopped, her eyes roaming over his face as if trying to memorize it.

"I hope," she stopped and swallowed, "I hope you can find that kind of love too. You deserve it," she added in a low voice, so low he almost didn't catch it. And then she did something that she had never done before, that no one had ever done before. She smoothed back the fringe on his forehead and stood up on her tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his lightening bolt scar.

Harry's heart stopped, remembering what that had felt like. He had felt her love for him in that kiss and his scar tingled again like it had tingled that day.

The younger Harry opened his eyes to find Ginny slipping away from him, one hand dragging her fingertips across his cheek as she stepped away and turned towards the waiting Knight Bus. He made a move as if he wanted to go after her but then stopped himself, clenching his fists at his side.

With a whoosh, the 22-year-old Harry Potter found himself landing back in his bedroom.

The memory had been hard to view and he lay on the wooden floor for a few moments trying to get the image of Ginny's eyes out of his head.

Finally he stood up and pushed the pensieve back into its wardrobe and shut the door. Resting his forehead against the doors of the wardrobe, he chided himself again for letting things end that way. He could have said so much to her, thanked her for being his friend…for helping him to defeat Voldemort. Instead, he had stood there in shock while she walked away and Harry wondered, now for what seemed like the millionth time, if he had made an irrevocable mistake.

Because deep in the recesses of his mind and tucked away in the secret part of his soul, Harry knew what he had done.

He had let her believe there was nothing between them and then watched her leave, knowing that he was lying.


	2. Chapter 2 A Weasley Reunion

Ginny collapsed back onto her childhood bed at the Burrow with a sigh.

Four years of eating rich French food still hadn't prepared her enough for the almost obscenely large breakfast her mother had prepared for her this morning. She smiled at the ceiling.

_Damn, it was good to be back_.

A part of her already missed the bustle of Paris and the constant song the city seemed to sing. But there was nothing like eating breakfast at the Burrow where the love of her family seemed to wrap itself around her like a warm blanket. She had missed this. For too long she had pushed the memory of what it was like to be with her family to the back of her mind. It had been painful to think about it when she couldn't possibly be with them. Now that she was home, the memories and feeling of familiarity came rushing back.

Her parents were glad she was home too, she could tell. Her mother's face shone and she kept touching Ginny on her face, her shoulder, her arm, her hair; as if reassuring herself she was real. Every few minutes, her mother's eyes would flicker over to the family clock that showed the location of each of the family members. Ginny knew her mother was pleased to see that Ginny's spoon finally rested at "home."

Her mother had written to her when she first arrived in Paris and said the temperamental clock had created a new location just for her. Ginny's spoon had apparently moved from "traveling" to "searching" after a few weeks in France. Every year, her mother had written, it created a new location for her as if the clock could read what Ginny was feeling at the time. Her second year away the clock had listed her location as "waxing poetic," her third year, it claimed she was "determined," and finally, this past year, the clock said she was "in peace."

Peace, Ginny surmised, was an odd feeling and she hadn't thought about calling what she had found in Paris "peace," but it was probably true. The constant churning inside of her had been calmed while she was there. It was ironic that they had all had to fight so long and so hard for peace. She supposed peace was a relative term. Right now, she was feeling peaceful, remembering what it felt like to grow up in this room--a young witch determined to break free from standards set by her older brothers.

Since she had been old enough to think about it, Ginny had wanted to make her own mark on the world. She had made quite a different kind of mark, she thought ruefully, when in her very first year of Hogwarts she had been possessed by a16-year-old version of Voldemort, the darkest wizard of the age. Not quite the impression she was looking for.

The room looked unchanged from the last time she had been there. Her mother had cleaned up, but everything was the same. She stood up and walked over to the vanity where she noticed a bit of parchment folded in half with her name on it. She opened it up to find a note from Hermione.

Hermione, she sighed. Merlin, she had missed her. It had been over a year since they had seen each other and letters had been no substitute.

_Ginny,_

_Welcome back! I'm so happy you're home and can't wait to see you! Ron and I will be by this evening for the weekly Weasley dinner--we have news! I know you're excited to see everyone and they are so excited to see you. The Weasley family has been missing its shiniest star._

_Love from,  
Hermione_

Ginny giggled. "Shiniest star" indeed. Hermione had always teased her about that, labeling her the star of her family. In a family full of her brother's accomplishments, it had been a compliment, but she had never really believed her. Her friend had always insisted the entire family held its collective breath waiting for Ginny to walk into a room so they could bask in her warmth but it was an exaggeration.

Ginny looked up at her reflection in the mirror.

"Welcome back dearie," the mirror yawned at her. "You look better than ever."

Ginny smiled faintly at the mirror. "Thanks," she said softly. "It's been a long time." She examined herself. She didn't really see what Hermione meant but was grateful for her friend's loyalty. Her heart gave a sudden pang as she turned to face the room and remembered the summers Hermione had spent with her in this room. Late nights giggling over boys, tearful confessions of a broken heart, sighs of awe when her brother Ron had finally gotten up enough nerve to admit his feelings for Hermione and loads of studying late in the night to learn how to control the magical power the fates had given her.

She walked across the room to the pile of trunks and books she had banished here from her Paris apartment and began freeing one particular trunk from the small mound. It was smaller than the rest, a shabby peeling red trunk with initials "GW" stenciled in fading golden letters on the lid. It was her old Hogwarts trunk and Ginny had packed everything she would need for her stay at the Burrow in it. The rest of the trunks and boxes held more clothes, books and shrunken furniture she had decided to carry with her from Paris. She wouldn't be unpacking those until she found a new place to live.

Her mother had tentatively broached the subject during breakfast. Ginny knew her mother wanted her to stay as long as possible and she planned on staying long enough for a good visit. As she had said this to her mother, relief was evident on Molly's face and she had happily gone back to buttering her toast. Her father, Ginny noticed, wasn't so convinced and gave her a look that promised to bring it up later when they were alone.

The truth was that Ginny didn't have any concrete plans. She was trained in advanced magic, especially transfiguration and charms and her years in Paris had only added to the well of power she could feel even now, while she was at "peace," humming inside of her. Her power was something she could now control with ease and she owed a large part of that to Hermione…and Harry.

_Harry._

As she unpacked the trunk, putting clothes in drawers, setting up a few pictures of her friends from Paris, she tried to remember their last meeting. It was no secret that loving Harry so much when he didn't love her back was a large part of her choice to leave but it still pained Ginny to recall the conversation they had when she admitted as much to him.

Her love for him had been threatening to spill out for years and when she decided she couldn't control it anymore, she knew it was time to go. He had been remarkably understanding about the whole thing, even tamping down his anger at her for changing their friendship without asking and for leaving England so suddenly. She hadn't given him any other choice but to let her go, she mused. She had simply told him, knowing that if he protested too much, she would have found a reason to stay.

The look in his eyes as he watched her pull away from him in that last moment, after she had kissed goodbye the scar that had cursed him for most of his life, had shaken her and been almost enough to stop her. He had looked at her with such intensity and Ginny, who had always prided herself on being able to read the emotions in Harry's eyes, hadn't understood what he was feeling.

Each year away from him had made her burden a bit easier. Almost as if he knew her wishes without asking, Harry hadn't written or visited her once. She had started several letters to him over the years but could never bring herself to finish them. What was there to say? '_I love you less than I did yesterday and I'm learning how to move on so we can be friends again.'_

She didn't think he would have wanted to receive a letter like that. He probably already felt enough guilt as it was, he wouldn't have wanted an update on her feelings to remind him.

Her love for him was still there but no longer brimming under the surface, ready to explode at any moment. Just like she had learned to control the incredible amount of power bestowed upon her as the seventh daughter of a seventh generation, Ginny had learned how to control her feelings for Harry Potter. She would always love him, she decided, but wasn't in love with him anymore. She had dated in Paris and although she hadn't found anyone she considered marrying, it was a relief to know that she could be attracted to other men.

Except now she would have to face him. She had been preparing herself for weeks, ever since she had written the letter to her parents explaining she had decided to move back to England after graduation and her mother had replied with salutations of joy, insisting Ginny return home in time for the Friday night Weasley supper. Her mother had subtly listed all the people who usually came, being sure to include Harry's name as code for "be prepared." Ginny knew her entire family had known what she had once felt for Harry but she often wished they would stop bringing it up.

Suddenly wanting to see the rest of her family who she knew would be arriving soon; Ginny stopped her slow unpacking and simply waved her hand, letting the magic flow out of her to finish what she had started. The remaining contents of the trunk danced out and settled themselves into their places as if they had never left. She picked up her brush, gave her hair a quick run through and smiled as she heard the sounds of apparition announcing her brother's arrivals.

Bill Weasley, the eldest of seven Weasley children, apparated into the Burrow with barely concealed anticipation. His baby sister was here, in this house, right now. He couldn't wait to see her. It had been two years since he had laid eyes on her and he was so anxious, his wife Fleur had sent him along to the Burrow while she got their children, Jacques and Robert, ready to see their Aunt Ginny. It was, he knew, his wife's kind way of letting him have a moment with the sister he treasured above all siblings.

Ginny had always held a special place in his heart. From the moment his mother had brought her home from St. Mungo's Hospital, Bill had vowed to protect and love his sister even as her tiny fist had grasped his thumb. He had spent a good many years trying to keep his younger brothers from teasing her to death only to realize Ginny gave as good as she got. He had then switched tactics from protecting her to training her in the art of subtlety.

When Tom Riddle had possessed Ginny, Bill's parents had brought her Egypt where he had been working as a curse breaker. When Ginny arrived, his heart had nearly broken to see her pale face and to listen to the nightmares that plagued her nightly. Finally, one night, she had broken down on his shoulder, explaining that she still felt dirty. He had held her as she cried, and said everything he could think of to make her feel better. Something must have clicked because that night had signaled a change in Ginny.

He remembered now the moment when he realized she was leaving and there was nothing any of them could say to make her stay. In a moment of clarity, he knew why she had to go. Ginny had too much inside of her. She needed to let it out and she couldn't be who she desperately wanted to be from inside the Burrow. She had seen too much, experienced too much and gone too far to settle for anything less. He had tried not to watch as she said goodbye to Harry, the only person Ginny would have stayed for, but when she pulled away, he knew the resolve on her face meant he hadn't asked her to. His heart broke again for his sister whose unrequited love for the boy-who-lived had empowered her while also plaguing her.

And now she was here, just a few feet away. She must have heard him apparate in because he could hear someone scrambling to get down the stairs and a red and golden blur threw herself the last few steps into his outstretched arms.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up off her feet. "Firefly," he whispered into her hair, closing his eyes and drowning himself in the warmth that always seemed to flow from Ginny.

After a moment, he set her back down on her feet and pushed her away to arms length so he could look at her. He was shocked at her appearance. Ginny had always been pretty but four years in Paris had turned his pixie sister into a fairy princess. She had always had more magical power than any of the rest of them but now the power seemed to be a tangible presence, resting on her skin. He almost felt like he could touch it. She was a knockout.

"Bill!" she shouted joyfully. "Oh, I am so happy to see you." And she threw herself at him again wrapping her arms around his neck and choking back a sob. "Merlin I've missed you."

"Well next time don't stay away so long," he retorted back with a grin. And she smiled at him sheepishly, wiping a few tears from her eyes as she stepped back from his embrace.

"You look great," he said honestly. "I can't believe you're all grown up."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him and pushed lightly at his right shoulder with her hand.

"Quit it," she demanded. "I'm probably going to get enough of that from Fred and George."

"Speaking of our esteemed brothers, where are they," Bill said, looking around the kitchen. "Have they arrived?"

"No. Mum said they would all be here for lunch. Just the brothers I mean. The rest of family is coming for supper."

"Yes, we do that most Friday nights," Bill explained. "It's kind of a thing."

"I know," she said, crinkling her nose at him, "I keep up. I understand it's more than just Weasley family though."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Remus and Tonks usually come and of course Harry is usually here."

There was a silence as Bill evaluated his sister's reaction to this statement.

"I know what you're doing," she finally said in a singsong voice. "But it's not going to work."

Bill grinned at her. "Not still pining then?"

A shadow of something flickered in Ginny's eyes but it was gone as quick as it arrived and she smiled winningly at him. "Let's just say that certain things have been dealt with accordingly," she said mysteriously.

But Bill thought he knew what that meant. She was admitting, in her own Ginny-ish way that she would always have feelings for Harry but they weren't threatening to strangle her anymore.

Two hours later, the seven children of Molly and Arthur Weasley were gathered around the largest picnic table in the backyard of their parent's home laughing at their little sister's bawdy story of a drunk co-ed friend of hers who had attempted to 'enhance' certain body parts in an effort to attract a waiter at a Parisian nightclub they had been known to frequent.

"And then," Ginny said, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, "she threw herself on him but when she pressed up against him, they popped, like balloons!" Ginny threw her head back in laughter at the memory and her brothers joined her except for Fred and George who went still as calculating looks came over their faces.

"Fred, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" George asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"That depends," his twin replied. "Do the words running through your mind include 'exploding' and 'bosom'?"

The brothers looked at each other and grinned. "Thanks Ginners!" George said as he reached across the table to take a bite out of the apple pie she had on her plate. "Keep 'em coming. It's been awhile since we've been inspired so quickly."

"Must have been because our ickle Gin-Gin took a piece of us with her when she left," Fred said, his face suddenly serious.

"Yeah," George said, swallowing his bite, "she obviously took the only good part of you–left the rest of us with the part of you that's just a git."

Ginny giggled at George and then turned her eyes to Fred. He noticed with a start the normal chocolate brown eyes she always had were now rimmed with a lighter, golden color, almost the color of honey. He hadn't noticed it when he first saw her because he was too busy throwing her up in the air in welcome. Now he wondered how he had missed it. They made her eyes look…otherworldly, he decided.

"Ginny," he asked, "what's with your eyes? They look…different."

Ginny paused with her fork in midair halfway to her mouth. Her eyes scanned her brothers' faces now peering intently at her to see what Fred meant. She put her fork down without taking a bite and sighed.

"It's the power," she admitted. "While I was gone, it…took on new forms. I mean, I learned lots of stuff and well…maybe I'll show you sometime," she finished, looking back down at her plate and twirling her fork in her right hand.

Sensing Ginny really didn't want to talk about this, Charlie put his large hand on top of her head and ruffled her hair, making her squeal with indignation. "Honestly," she huffed, "I'm 21 years old, stop mussing my hair!"

Charlie threw his arm around her shoulders, a broad grin on his face as he drew his only sister into the crook of his neck. "Damn Gin it's good to hear you yell at me again," he sighed.

Ginny turned her face up to him and pecked him on the cheek. "It feels good to yell at you all again," she responded, pulling out of Charlie's embrace and sitting up straight. She cleared her throat and her brothers quieted down, sensing she had something to say.

Ginny looked around at them, tears suddenly threatening to fall. "I just want you to know how very much I missed this," she said, gesturing with her hands at the Burrow and the yard. "My whole life, you have all been there and even though I've wanted to kick each one of you in the arse at some point, it was bloody hard sometimes to make it through the day without you."

She laughed at herself, wiping a stray tear away. "This day is way too emotional," she said under her breath.

"And I am SO sorry that I missed so much of your lives," she continued, her hands moving to grip the edge of the table. "I can't tell you how ashamed I am that I wasn't here when you got married or when you became fathers or when important things happened to you…" she broke off and looked down at the table.

"My only excuse, and it isn't much of one, is that I didn't know what else to do. I would have exploded…" but she was interrupted when Ron reached out to touch her hand, loosening it from its death grip on the table and enfolding it his hands.

"Ginny," he said uncertainly, "I think we all understood and knew that…well, I mean, I can't speak for everyone but I saw what staying here was doing to you and…" he stopped and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them back up and looked searchingly at her, "I guess all I need to know is, was it worth it? Did it work? 'Cause that's what is bloody _important_."

Ginny smiled at Ron. He was thick sometimes but he still surprised her with his insight at the oddest moments.

"Yeah," she said softly, "It worked. I'm much better now. Paris was…cathartic."

Percy cleared his throat. He had been silent up until now, preferring to watch Ginny and let his brothers take the lead in the raucous conversation as they welcomed her home. But he was curious so he asked, "What worked exactly?"

Ginny turned her shining eyes to him, her hand still held firmly in Ron's grip. "I don't know how to put it into to words Perce," she frowned thoughtfully. "I just know that when I left, so many things were swirling around inside of me that it felt like I couldn't contain them. Paris gave me something else to focus on and the work at the University gave me something to channel my energy into."

"We could tell, you know," Charlie told her. His eyes met George's as he looked up. "We all knew something was sucking you down."

"Yeah," Ginny admitted, "It did kind of feel like that."

"It was hard," Charlie said, turning back to her. "Watching the star of our family draining away like that. You've always been the glue that held us together and when we couldn't hold you together, we felt…"

"Helpless," Percy finished. His brothers looked at him in surprise. Percy wasn't really one express himself or admit to failure.

"Oh guys," Ginny breathed. "There wasn't anything you could have done. None of you. It was all me. I was the only one who could change things. That's why I had to leave."

"We know," Ron said shortly. "We just wish you had been given a reason to stay," he finished, his expression darkening.

"Don't," Ginny said sharply. "Don't go there. You know that isn't," she swallowed, "his fault."

They were all silent for a moment before Bill sighed loudly, "We know," he said frustrated. "But it still would have felt good to have a clear cut path towards blaming someone, anyone really. Didn't matter who in the end, as long as we felt better after kicking his arse."

"Someone who we could have used as a test subject for Weasley's Wheezes on a regular basis," Fred offered.

"Someone who would have allowed us to use him in an as-yet-undiscovered form of beater practice for the Weasley family quidditch team," George said, his eyes twinkling.

"Someone who isn't afraid enough of dragons," Charlie said, getting into the spirit of things. "But I would have fixed that soon enough."

"Abso-bloody-lutely," Ron said. "It would have been nice to put the fear of the Weasley name into someone." His upper lip curled up a bit as he appeared to be imagining a scenario involving a faceless man in his head.

"I would have liked to have been able to practice that castration hex a bit more," Percy said musingly.

There was a shocked silence at the table as his siblings stared at Percy in disbelief.

"What?" he asked. "It's no big deal, just a little curse they use at the ministry sometimes when the rats get out of hand…" but his voice trailed off as his brothers and sister burst into varying stages of laughter around the table.

"What is wrong with you all," he said exasperatingly, looking around to see his oldest brother who had collapsed onto the ground behind him. "You act like I don't know what a penis is!"

But this was the wrong thing to say as it sent Ron sliding underneath the table to join Bill who was already hiccupping and encouraged Fred and George to immediately launch into a series of imaginative rhymes involving the words "Percy" and "penis."

"Damn," Ginny giggled, "It's good to be home."

In muggle London, Harry stepped out of his shower. He was just killing time really, until he was to be at the Weasley's. He hadn't scheduled himself to do anything today because he figured he would need this time to psych himself up to face Ginny. It wasn't that he was scared of her per say, it was that he suspected that after spending more than a few minutes in her presence, he would feel compelled to confess everything. He was really afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from telling her that he… stop, he commanded himself. Best not to go there.

On the other hand, he reflected, looking around at himself in the mirror, it might have been better to schedule something today that would have taken his mind of the upcoming evening. What was wrong with him? His last confrontation with Ginny had been four years ago, surely they could be friends again. Ginny had four years of living in sophisticated, cosmopolitan Paris, she wasn't still in love with him. She had grown up, moved on and…bugger it, he was NOT going to examine the feelings that thought stirred deep within him.

He moved into the bedroom, tossing his wet towel into the hamper behind him. Naked, he crossed to bureau and took out some boxers and a pair of jeans. Sliding them on, he walked into his closet, emerging a few minutes later wearing a bright green Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes t-shirt. Fred and George had given it to him gleefully two weeks ago claiming it brought out the color of his eyes.

He sat down on the red loveseat in the room, pulled on his socks and stood back up, sliding his feet into some waiting loafers. He was determined to appear casual today. He didn't want to make Ginny uncomfortable and he certainly didn't want her to think he was trying to impress her.

He walked back into his bathroom to run a quick comb through his hair, suffering the usual morning critique from his mirror on the hopelessness of his hair and bounded down the stairs to find Dobby waiting at the foot of them, ready to hand him his morning newspaper.

"Really Dobby," Harry said amusedly to his over-eager house elf, "I've told you before you don't have to do this. Just set the paper next to my breakfast."

"Dobby is sorry Harry Potter sir," Dobby said in his squeaky voice, "Dobby will try not to forget again."

Harry strode into the morning room where he liked to eat breakfast and rolled his eyes. He had frighteningly similar conversations with Dobby everyday but the house-elf had his own ideas about the role of a proper servant.

Harry hated to think of Dobby as his servant; he was his friend and had been since for 10 years now. Explaining this to the elf however, was a different matter as whenever he said the word "friend," Dobby immediately broke down into sobs, claiming himself not worthy of the "Great Harry Potter Sir."

Hermione had insisted he continue to pay Dobby when Harry had coaxed the elf away from the house-elf staff of Hogwarts to come and work for him in Grimmauld Place. He certainly didn't mind doing so, even though it was unusual to pay a house-elf, but Dobby was so eager to work for his idol he had been willing to agree to almost any terms Hermione had put forth.

So Harry paid Dobby and it had become a game between them to see what ingenious method Dobby would use to give back half of the money his employer gave him once a week. Harry had found random coins throughout the house, once even discovering galleon sized tiles in a recently remodeled shower stall in the guest bathroom.

As he sipped his morning tea, Harry wondered if he should contact Hermione to see if she wanted to meet for lunch today. He knew she wouldn't be meeting Ron for their usual Friday lunch because Ron and the rest of his brothers were all going to the Burrow to welcome Ginny home. It had been a specially arranged time for just the siblings and their parents without the grandchildren and in-laws around. Harry knew Ginny would appreciate the precious hours alone with her brothers. They had always been so close and although they were a bit protective of her, they were always the first ones to support her, even before she thought to ask for it. There was a bond between them that Harry had never really understood, having never experienced it himself. Perhaps, he wondered not for the first time, if his parents had lived, whether he might have had siblings.

Shaking himself from his sudden depression, Harry thought again about calling Hermione. It had been awhile since he had seen her since she had spent the past two weeks working late nights at the Department of Mysteries where she was an Unspeakable, but he was afraid she would want to talk about Ginny.

_Ginny._

Hermione had always called Ginny the "shining star" of the Weasley family. Even before Harry really knew Ginny, Hermione insisted the Weasley family could sense how special Ginny was and, she had added with the utmost serious expression on her face, she suspected they were right. Harry had shrugged his shoulders at her when she confided this to him, but after Harry and Ginny had become good friends in his sixth year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he had privately agreed with Hermione's assessment.

He'd be damned if was going to admit that to her. She was already too smug by half.

Sighing with a certain amount of trepidation, Harry put down his cup of tea, and stood up to floo Hermione. Might as well let her get it all out of her system. He knew she had missed her best friend and was excited to see her again. It was only fair he gift her with his undivided attention while she rambled on about Ginny over lunch.

Striding over to the fireplace, Harry waved his right hand and muttered "incendio" under his breath. The fire sprang to life and Harry dipped his other hand into the floo jar on top of the mantelpiece.

Throwing a pinch of the powder into the flames, he stuck his head in and shouted "Ministry of Magic Department of Mysteries!"


	3. Chapter 3 Of Best Friends

Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, pulled on her gloves as she stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron where she had just finished eating lunch with Harry. She took out her wand preparing to apparate back to the Ministry of Magic for the rest of the workday but hesitated thinking of her best friend who had just arrived back in England after a four-year absence. She checked her watch. It was after 2 p.m., her lunch with Harry had taken longer than she thought and there wasn't much of the workday left. She knew Ron was already with his sister and, making a spontaneous decision, apparated instead to the Burrow where Ginny awaited.

She arrived on the front lawn of the Burrow and had barely started walking towards the front porch when Ginny burst out the front door and ran towards her.

"Hermione!" she yelled.

Ginny rammed into her, the force of her hug sending them both tumbling to the ground and rolling them down a slight incline until they came to a breathless stop, laying next to each other on the ground, panting with laughter.

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and looked over at her friend. Ginny was sprawled on the ground, chuckling. "Well," she said to the redheaded girl, "That was quite a welcome."

"Oi!" Ron shouted, poking his head out the door at them, "Don't break my wife!"

"He likes to say that often doesn't he?" Ginny said, smiling amusedly back at Ron. "The word 'wife' I mean."

"Yeah," Hermione said, twiddling her fingers in a wave at Ron who huffed and went back inside. "He likes to chant it too, when we're…"

"STOP!" Ginny shouted. "Stop that right now! You know the rules, no kinky talk about the brothers. It's disgusting." She stood up and brushed the grass off her bum, glaring down at Hermione.

"That's what you get for tackling me," Hermione retorted.

Ginny grinned and reached down a hand to help up Hermione. The girls threw their arms around each other's waists and walked back to the Burrow, their heads pressed together.

"Goddess its good to see you again 'Mione," Ginny said fiercely. Hermione squeezed her friend closer in agreement.

"How are you, really?" she asked.

Ginny hesitated knowing what Hermione meant. "It was a bit harder than I thought to leave Paris," she admitted to her friend. "But being back feels right and it's wonderful to be here again. I've really missed this place."

"We've missed you too," Hermione said softly, pausing in the threshold of the door and turning towards her friend. She stepped back and smirked at her. "You look fabulous."

"Thanks," Ginny said, smoothing down the front of her jumper. "I try," she said glibly.

Hermione looked closer at her friend. It had been a year since they had seen each other but Ginny kept her pretty well informed in her letters. She could see the golden rim that had appeared in Ginny's eyes and not for the first time since Ginny had described it to her, Hermione wondered what else could possibly happen to her friend.

She reached up a hand to cup Ginny's cheek, marveling at the heat that always seemed to be lurking just underneath Ginny's skin. It was as if there was an inferno inside of her. Hermione had always been fascinated with the levels of power Ginny seemed to control without thinking.

She used her hand to still Ginny's face, peering into her eyes to examine the ring of gold that had appeared 10 months ago.

"I'm not an experiment 'Mione," her friend said irritability.

"Sorry," Hermione said sheepishly, dropping her hand and stepping back. "It's just the first time I've seen it since you wrote me about it and I've been wondering what it looked like."

Ginny smiled knowingly and Hermione put her hand back up around Ginny's neck, pulling her head forward and leaning in to rest their foreheads together. She closed her eyes and let herself bask in the contentment that came with knowing her best friend was home again. Ginny raised her arms to Hermione's waist and gave her a true embrace instead of the tackle she had before. The two friends hugged each other for few moments before Hermione pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

"It is so good to have you here," she said fervently.

Ginny kept her arm around her waist and drew Hermione into the house, past the living room and into the kitchen where the rest of the Weasley siblings waited.

Three hours later, Hermione walked back into the kitchen after visiting the loo and noticed a marked increase in the tension in the room. She looked at the clock and realized the rest of the clan would be arriving soon, including, Hermione realized with a start, Harry. She sighed quietly to herself. The rest of the family must have realized this and were nervous about Ginny's reaction.

They ought to be nervous about Harry's reaction too, she thought wryly. It hadn't been easy for him either.

Ginny bounded down the stairs into the kitchen a few steps behind Hermione and stopped. Her eyes met Hermione's and she knew she felt the tension as well. Ginny's eyes narrowed as she took in her parents and brothers who had obviously been discussing her in the girls' absence. She rolled her eyes at Hermione and walked over to her mother. She didn't say anything but placed her hand on her mother's shoulder, smiling at her when the woman looked back at her.

Hermione watched as she made her way around the room, finding an excuse to touch each family member. She felt the tension in the room ebb away as each Weasley brother noticeably relaxed and she didn't think it was just a coincidence. Ginny was calming her family somehow.

Finally Ginny came over to sit down next to Hermione at the table. Hermione raised her eyebrows at her friend and Ginny fought back a smile. She reached out her hand and touched Hermione's arm. Immediately the bushy-haired girl felt a calmness wash over her. It was subtle and she was probably only aware of it because she knew what Ginny was doing but she was still intrigued.

Ginny gave her a lopsided grin and turned around to talk to Bill who, now that he was relaxed, was interested in hearing more about Ginny's studies.

The moment Harry walked into the Burrow he could tell Ginny was there. He had been walking into the Burrow at least once a week for the past four years and he knew what the magic of the place felt like. The Burrow was a comfortable place and it had always felt so but with Ginny back, the magic in the ramshackle house had taken a huge spike–almost as if the building could tell its daughter had returned.

Harry had been able to sense the magic of things, people, places--anything really--since the age of 16 when he had experienced what Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts at the time, had referred to as "wizarding puberty." Not many wizards actually experienced a magical puberty, Dumbledore had explained, and it usually meant the wizard or witch had a small power surge resulting in a display of accidental magic.

Harry's "power surge" had resulted in a shock wave felt within a 3-mile radius of Number 4 Privet Drive where he had been sleeping at the time. The muggles had called it a minor earthquake on the local news station and who could have blamed them? The windows in all the houses had been blown out and several trees uprooted.

Harry had awoken at the Burrow three days later after a severe case of magical exhaustion. Apparently the wards surrounding Privet Drive had alerted Professor Dumbledore when his power surged and Dumbledore had felt Harry would recover better with Molly Weasley fussing over him.

As soon as he had woken up, Harry could tell something was different inside of him. His body had felt stretched, like it had been used and then discarded after being put back together again. His insides seemed to ripple any time he attempted to move and when he confessed this to Dumbledore, he was told his body was still adjusting to the power that flowed through it. Harry had spent the rest of the summer in private tutoring with the professor and his father's best friend, Remus Lupin. It hadn't been easy to learn how to control the power. But Dumbledore had infinite patience with him and schooled him in the fine art of letting his magic seep out in small bursts of energy rather than throwing everything he had behind every spell.

Once, after an exhausting day of learning wandless magic, Harry had collapsed on the ground on a hill overlooking the Burrow where he had been practicing with Remus and asked his father's friend why he thought this had happened to Harry.

"Why can't I ever be just a normal wizard Moony," he had said sullenly. "Other wizards aren't spending their summer learning how to control huge amounts of magical power. I don't want this and never did."

"I know you didn't Harry," Remus had said looking down at him with a kind expression on his face. "I suspect most people wish extraordinary things never happened to them. But this is something that has been given to you and there must be a reason for it. That should be comforting."

"Comforting," Harry had scoffed, getting back up to his feet, "It feels like there is a hurricane in my innards–it's definitely not comforting."

Remus looked at him thoughtfully. "I think that will get better with practice." He stopped and looked at the Burrow. "I for one am immensely proud of you and Sirius would have been as well."

Harry had stopped his stretching and contemplated Remus. The werewolf barely mentioned his late best friend and Harry's godfather and Harry knew the subject was painful for him. He could barely bring himself to think about Sirius and couldn't help but still blame his own stupidity for leading Sirius into the trap that had resulted in his death.

He lowered his head and gulped back the sudden threat of tears. "Remus," he said hoarsely, "I never apologized for…"

"Stop Harry," Remus had said sharply and turned to face him, bringing his hands up to grip the young man's shoulders and jerk his head upwards to look him in the eye. "It was not your fault, nothing like that is ever someone's fault. Sirius knew the risks and would have died a thousand times over if it meant you would be kept safe."

"But that's just it," Harry said, raising his voice, "I don't want ANYONE to die because of me!"

Remus' face had turned hard and he stepped closer to Harry, gripping his shoulders so hard Harry was sure his fingers would leave marks. "You don't get it," he had growled at him. "No one is going to die because of you…we'll die FOR you."

"Why?" Harry had whispered, more than a little bit frightened at the look in Remus' eyes. "I don't deserve that."

Remus continued to hold Harry's eyes with his own. "Because we believe in you. We believe in what you can do and deep down we know that this is going to come down to the faith and goodness inside of you. That is something we are all willing to die for. It isn't your choice to decide where people place their loyalty. But my loyalty and Sirius' loyalty and your parents love for you…have all been given to you freely. If I can protect you with my life, I will do it. And so would anyone else in that house," he had said, nodding towards the Burrow. "They have the right to fight for what they believe in and to protect what they value."

"It's too much…" Harry had started but then broke off as the lump in his throat threatened to overwhelm him.

"It might not be enough," Remus told him honestly, stepping back from him.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest rubbing at his shoulders where Remus' fingers had bit into him.

"But I'll be damned if I'm going to let Voldemort take away my faith in the light that I see in you and your friends."

"My friends?" Harry had asked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Remus had smiled at him faintly. "Ron and Hermione," he said. "They give you strength. Hermione is truly the smartest witch I have ever known and that is saying something. And Ron–his loyalty to you is unquestioned. How many times has he stood between you and those he thought were threatening you? Both of them…they are special and you know it. You don't make friends like that everyday. The universe knew you would need them to see this through."

"And," Remus cleared his throat, "young Ginny."

"Ginny?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows at him. "What's Ginny got to do with it?"

"C'mon Harry," Remus had chided him, "Surely you can sense what she is capable of. I know you've been working on sensing magic and she's got more in a strand of her hair than anyone else in that house."

"How can you tell that?" Harry said, his brow furrowing. "I'm not very good at this sensing thing yet."

"A werewolf has," Remus coughed, "er…certain, um, senses and instincts of its own. The wolf inside of me recognizes something in her that is powerful, and…" Remus paused searching for the word, "Ancient," he said finally.

"Why hasn't anyone said anything?" Harry said, his mind reeling at what Remus was trying to tell him.

"I'm not sure they realize it yet," Remus responded as he and Harry began a slow stroll back to the Burrow. "But they will."

Later, much later that summer, Harry felt comfortable enough to try and sense out the magic of the Burrow and its inhabitants. The idea that he could sense magic had impressed Ron and frustrated Hermione.

"I don't understand," she had said crossly, "What do you mean you can sense it? How do you do it?"

Harry had tried to explain that it was sort of like reading the magical signature of something but she had huffed and said that wasn't possible. Harry had shrugged at her and continued to amuse himself by sensing the magic of his two closest friends.

Hermione's magic, as predicted, was organized into millions of neat little boxes that she unconsciously opened when she needed the spell inside. Ron's magic was more sporadic. He was powerful but his tendency to fly off the handle meant he was unpredictable. Sometimes he could pull something really powerful out of himself and other times the magic flew around with no real destination.

After he had returned to school for his sixth year, Harry had made it a habit to sense everything around him. He discovered, for example, that his friend Neville Longbottom had a large untapped amount of power. It was buried so deep Harry suspected it wouldn't ever be used. And his roommates Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan both had lively, happy types of magic that made Harry smile when he sensed them.

But none of them had compared to Ginny. When Hermione had confided to Harry the previous year she suspected something was special about Ginny, she hadn't known how right she was. The first time Harry opened up his senses to Ginny; he had been hit with a bright bolt of heat that sent a spark to his own, carefully controlled power. He had quickly closed the connection and struggled to push the power inside of him back down.

The trouble had been that magic had a mind of its own and when the magic inside of him had sensed the magic inside of Ginny, it had immediately wanted to merge with it.

Harry didn't try the experiment again until he was sure he had more control over himself. He had waited until Christmas when they were all back at the Burrow and relaxing in front of the fire on Christmas Eve. Harry had stayed on the couch while the others were sprawled on the floor and slowly opened himself up to the magic in the room.

There was Hermione, cool and organized, there was Ron, quick and fast and there…_sweet Merlin_…there was Ginny. It was beyond anything Harry had ever felt before. Even the magic of Hogwarts couldn't compare to the brightness and heat he sensed inside of Ginny. Swirling around inside of her was fire, and a passion that was nearly out of control. Ignoring the swift bolt of desire her magic sparked inside of him, Harry had realized with horror what was happening to Ginny.

The power inside of her had obviously been building for a long time and it was going to force its way out if she didn't do something. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her more. He could see what Remus had been talking about it. The magic inside of her–it was old and she had obviously been born with it. He could tell it had been building over time and had nearly reached a breaking point. He opened his eyes and looked closely at her.

Her eyes met his across the room, shooting him a quizzical glance. His senses still open, he felt like he was staring into the crater of a volcano. There were flames behind her eyes and now that he was paying attention, he could see the power rippling over her. He didn't know how she withstood it with a straight face.

He began to recognize signs that indicated Ginny knew something was happening to her. Her face was pale and strained, her eyes had large circles underneath them and her hands were clenched into small little white-knuckled fists. She looked away and took deep breaths.

Harry suddenly realized that as his magic was drawn to hers, so must hers be drawn to his, probably forcing the volcano inside of her to swirl even faster. He cursed himself for his stupidity and slammed the door on his connection to the room. After a few minutes, he noticed that she had relaxed a bit and soon went to bed.

Harry had waited two more days before confronting her with what he knew. He didn't want to set her off–who knew what would happen if he did–but someone had to do something. He suspected she was scared about what was happening to her. He waited until Ron and Hermione were wrapped up in each other one evening and walked over to her, hands in his pockets.

"Fancy a walk?" he had asked timidly. She smiled up at him and stood up, grabbed her coat from the rack by the back door and walked out with him into the winter evening. It had snowed the night before and the sky was clear with a million stars. Their feet crunched through the fresh snow as they walked in silence.

"What's wrong?" she had asked in a quiet voice.

He had stopped walking and turned to look at her; her long red hair was twisted into a braid and a red knitted ski cap kept her ears warm. She was looking up at him with arched eyebrows, her eyes almost luminescent in the darkness and her lips parted, allowing white puffs of breath to escape, betraying the coldness of the air.

He had never seen her look so pretty.

Her cheeks and nose were pink and she was bundled up in layers of Weasley jumpers and jackets in an effort to keep out the chill. Tentatively, he had opened himself up to her. There was the heat, the powerful magic inside of her that answered his own and stirred something in his blood he would rather not think about.

He looked away and sighed. He didn't know how to start this conversation. Looking back at her, he blurted out, "I think you're going to spontaneously combust!"

She had stared at him and then burst into peals of laughter before settling down into quiet giggles and choked out, "What an odd thing to say."

Harry felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It had been an odd thing to say and he could only imagine how it must have sounded to her. Soon they were both chuckling and Ginny looped her arm through the crook in his elbow, leading him further along the snowy path and said between snorts, "Tell me what on the Goddess' earth you are talking about."

So he told her. He explained more about the power surge he had experienced over the summer, how it had felt to have a constant raging hurricane inside of him but that he had learned to control it and now he could sense something similar inside of her. Only, he said sharply, it wasn't a hurricane. It was more like a volcano that would force its way out of her if she didn't do something. He knew how she felt, he insisted, and would help her but this was a drastic situation and he didn't want anything to happen to her.

He wasn't sure he had impressed the seriousness of the situation upon her until she had looked up at him with fiery eyes and said with a hard, blazing look on her face, "Okay."

Helping Ginny to confront her power was no small task. Over the next several months she had worked with her professors, Hermione and Harry and soon the power inside of her calmed down to a slow simmer. She had once told Harry that it was the second time he had saved her life. She had been struggling, she said, and it was helpful to know someone who knew what she was feeling. If he hadn't forced her to face it, she reasoned, the magic might have killed her.

Harry had thought she was exaggerating at the time but now that he stood in the front hallway of the Burrow, and felt Ginny's magic wash over him for the first time in four years, he wondered if maybe she had been right.

Ginny knew the moment Harry stepped into the Burrow. She was always tuned to the life around her and when Harry opened the front door, something powerful, raw and earthy entered her realm of awareness. She was upstairs showing Hermione some shoes she had brought with her from Paris when she stiffened unconsciously.

"Ginny?" Hermione said uncertainly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ginny dismissed, blowing out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "I think Harry just got here."

She shook herself and stood up, "Sorry, it just took me by surprise. Goddess, it's been a long time since I felt that."

"What does it feel like?" Hermione asked, unable to keep the note of curiosity out of her voice. "What does Harry feel like that it causes that reaction?"

Ginny bit her lower lip wondering how much to tell her friend. No one knew more about her power than Hermione. Her magic had developed significantly over the past four years and no one knew the extent of it except for Hermione, whose position as an Unspeakable for the Ministry of Magic made it pretty much guaranteed she could keep a secret. But how to explain Harry to her? She wasn't sure she wanted her friend to know what Harry's power felt like. It had always been something private they had shared, since they were, as far as they knew, the only people who could tell such things. Ginny decided to take the coward's way out and distract Hermione.

"I don't know Hermione," she smirked at her, "I've never 'felt' Harry. But as I recall, there was that one time in seventh year when you had been drinking too much butterbeer and you yourself managed to grab…"

"Okay!" Hermione shouted, drowning out her friend's reminiscences. "There's no need to bring up that story. Point taken. I'll leave it alone."

Hermione turned to make her way to the door of Ginny's room and stopped, searching her friend's face. "Seriously, you going to be okay?"

"I dunno," Ginny shrugged. "Guess we'll find out. We can't avoid each other forever. We were friends once, good friends, and if there is something left to salvage hopefully it will work itself out."

"It's just that," Hermione hesitated. "Well…do you still have those feelings for him? Are you going to be able to handle that?"

"It's been four years Hermione," Ginny said shortly, "My feelings have matured. I'm not the same person pining away for Harry Bloody Potter. I've moved on. I feel nothing but gratitude towards him for respecting my feelings the way he did and not embarrassing me when I told him I needed time away from him."

It was quiet for a few minutes and then Ginny reached out to take Hermione's right hand in her own. "Truly," she said, now in a more gentle tone. "I appreciate your concern but this had to happen sometime. And Harry and I, well, we've always been close so I am looking forward to seeing him again."

"I know Ginny," Hermione said softly, "But feelings like you had for Harry, they just don't go away."

"I'm not saying my feelings for him have disappeared," Ginny said staunchly, "I'm saying they've mellowed into something different. It's been four bloody years without one single shred of contact and it was my choice to do so. I wouldn't have come back if I thought seeing him would throw me into a turmoil of unrequited love again."

"So you're not in love with him?" Hermione forced herself to ask.

"No," she replied firmly. "I'm not. He will always be my first love but its different now. I'm different and so is he. The separation was good and I can step back from it."

"Good," her friend replied, squeezing her hand. "Let's go see him then."

"Wait!" Ginny squeaked, "How do I look?"

"Honestly," Hermione rolled her eyes, "You look great, you always do. Besides what do you care?" And with a knowing smirk on her face, she pushed her friend out the door towards the stairs.

Harry heard her coming down the stairs before he saw her. He was standing in the kitchen whispering and chuckling with Fred and George about a new idea they had for inflatable exploding bosoms when he heard the slow clumping of feet on the stairs.

He knew it was Ginny--he could feel the warmth that had always radiated from her moving his direction. He turned to greet her and everything else faded away. He didn't notice the rest of the family quietly leaving the kitchen, allowing him to greet her alone, nor did he notice how the dying fire in the kitchen suddenly flared up when she stepped into the room.

His eyes felt like they were caught in a tractor beam as they slowly moved up the body that was descending into the kitchen. Soft brown suede, high-heeled boots pulled up to her knees were the first thing he saw. The calf-hugging boots were, Harry gulped, followed by thighs encased in tight jeans that rode low on her hips and were tucked into the precious boots. She was wearing a thin, soft yellow cardigan wrapped tightly around her body and tied with a matching belt at her slim waist. Harry was reasonably sure she wasn't wearing another shirt underneath the cardigan and the pictures that flashed traitorously across his mind caused his serious blood flow problem to take a further dive south. The sleeves of the hip-length cardigan were pushed to her elbows and as she slid her right hand down the banister, the numerous bangles on her wrists clinked together.

Harry knew his mouth had dropped open but he couldn't register enough functioning brain cells to send the signal to his mouth to close. He could just picture his hand slowly sliding up that bare thigh that was undoubtedly soft as silk and…STOP…his brain shouted at him.

His eyes moved up to her face and he felt himself reeling. Ginny had always been beautiful but the pretty red-haired girl who had left had come back a goddess. Her face was more defined, as if she had finally grown into it. And her body, his mouth went dry; she had curves he knew she hadn't had when she left. Everything about her had matured and he wasn't in total ignorance of his body's response to hers–although he hoped she was. He was happy to see she kept her waist length hair but layers had been added and it was fuller, and wavier. When he looked closely, he could see the highlights of gold and copper in her hair that had always reminded him of flames.

He moved his gaze to her eyes. They stared at him with an intensity he had forgotten she possessed and he noticed something unusual. He thought maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him and he leaned a bit closer to look at them again. They were still the same shape, like a cat's eye, but there was a thin line of gold surrounding the brown. He was just starting to contemplate the meaning of this when she spoke.

"I know," she said. "It's odd isn't it?" Her voice sounded nearly the same except it was a bit deeper, more musical.

He pulled back and slowly reached out his left hand to take hers. Without realizing what he was doing, his thumb caressed her fingers that had closed around his own and he reached his other hand with the intent of touching her cheek but settled instead for her shoulder.

"Ginny," he whispered, afraid to break the spell she seemed to have cast in the room, "It is so good to see you."

"You too," she said, smiling at him. She looked like she couldn't help but smile at him. Her enthusiasm seemed catching and as she stepped forward to embrace him, he slid his arms around her waist holding her to him for one sweet moment.

He pulled back with a wide grin on his face and said, "What's with your eyes?"

"I'll tell you sometime," she said, lacing her fingers with his. "Sometime when we're alone."

He looked around the kitchen. "It appears we're alone now," he said dryly, finally noticing that everyone had left the room.

Ginny laughed lightly. "I guess they didn't want to be around for this," she said meeting his eyes, "Can't imagine why."

"I wonder what they think we'll do to each other," he said. He could feel the silly grin still on his face and wondered if it would ever go away. The magic inside of him was churning in triumph, sensing that she was close again. He didn't dare try to sense where the others were lest the open connection spark something he couldn't stop.

Harry took both of her hands in his and held out her arms away from her body. He moved his eyes back up and down her figure.

"You look wonderful," he said honestly. "Twirl around, lets get a good look at you." He was flirting now and he couldn't help it. She had always brought the mischievous side out in him.

She tossed her hair back and giggled at him. "Shut it," she said. "I could say the same about you."

"Really?" he said waggling his eyebrows at her. "I'm a hottie then? Finally, all those years of quidditch with your brothers paying off."

She laughed again and stepped close to hug him again. This time she slid her arms around his waist and he couldn't stop himself from bringing up his arms around her shoulders and sliding his hands down her spine as he embraced her.

They were quiet for a few moments and then she said into his chest, "I'm sorry."

Harry took a deep breath, knowing what she meant. She had left so suddenly after the declaration of her never-ending love for him had changed their friendship forever. They had been close, very close and after the shock of her confession had worn off, he had mourned the loss of his friend for a long time. But he had understood, well--he amended--he had understood most of the time. It was time to tell her to stop feeling guilty about it.

He moved his hands to her shoulders tugging her away so he could look at her. She was staring up at him with apprehension on her face. She was afraid, he realized, afraid that he was upset with her for leaving and not contacting him the entire time she was gone. He knew they needed to clear the air but this wasn't the place to do it.

He pulled her back to him, unable to resist feeling her body against his one more time and rested his head on top of hers. "We'll talk yeah?" He said into her hair. "Later, we'll have a nice long talk."

"Okay," she nodded against his chest. "We'll make time later, for a walk or something."

"Alright," he agreed. "Later, after dinner and the joyous revelry has died down."

She chuckled at his description of her family and stepped away from his embrace. He tried not to notice how cold he felt without her in his arms. She smiled at him again and turned towards the door, holding out her hand.

"C'mon," she said, "Let's go find the gits."

He took the offered hand and they walked through the back door to find the Weasley grandchildren running around in circles chasing their Uncle Fred who had apparently, been successful in his attempt to give the oldest grandson, Jacques, a Canary Cream. Evidently, the rest of the Weasley clan had arrived, Harry thought.

"An oldie but a goodie!" Fred shouted at his mother as he ran past her shrieking at him to stop torturing his nephews.

Ginny dropped his hand to run towards the group of her sister-in-laws, squealing as they embraced her and immediately began chatting in what Harry could only surmise was a different language.

He smiled contentedly, recognizing the effect Ginny's presence was having on her family. They didn't even realize what she brought to the room, he decided, they just knew they felt better when she was around.

Charlie came up to him and pressed a bottle of butterbeer into his hand. He thanked him and lifted the bottle to his lips. He hesitated before taking a sip when he noticed Ron staring at him pointedly over the top of his own bottle on the other side of the yard. He rolled his eyes at his friend but Ron persisted, his eyes glancing towards his sister and back to Harry in an obvious meaning.

Harry looked over at Ginny. She was standing with both arms around Fleur's waist conversing with her in rapid French while Fleur was laughing, her Veela-ness at full power. It wasn't something she was doing consciously he noted, it was just Ginny bringing out the happiness in everyone.

He sighed, looked back towards Ron and gave him a firm nod that apparently satisfied the tall, lanky red-head because he stood up and drained the rest of his drink before leaping to tackle Fred to the ground so the children could catch him. Fred's protests were drowned in squeals of childish laughter as his nephews swarmed over him.

Harry laughed with Charlie as Jacques got in one well-aimed kick that made Fred curl up into the fetal position moaning in pain about his sensitive areas. Bill snorted as he led his son away, most likely to explain why Uncle Fred had been reduced to whimpers.

Harry then watched as Ginny, cringing and laughing at her brother rolling around on the ground, reached out to lay her hand on his waist. Fred immediately relaxed and looked at Ginny in astonishment as she straightened up and dusted off her jeans. She caught Harry's eye and then turned back to her sister-in-laws.

Yes, Harry thought, they would definitely be talking later.


	4. Chapter 4 The Golden Couple

Ron Weasley tossed back the last swallow of his third butterbeer of the night, chucked the empty bottle into a nearby trash bin, sat back in his lawn chair and tried to decide if his sister was still in love with his best friend.

Most of his family thought Ron was not the sort of person to notice things like this, including, he thought irritably, his own wife.

But Ron noticed more than people gave him credit for. He noticed, for example, that just because Ginny's face had betrayed nothing more than serene contentment when talking to Harry this evening at dinner, didn't mean she wasn't hiding something. In fact, Ron concluded, the mere fact she had kept her expressions neutral said a lot more about what she was feeling than if the emotions had been plain on her face.

Ginny had never been very good at hiding her feelings.

As children, Ginny and Ron had stood together in opposition to the onslaught that was their older brothers. They had been close in age; had protected each other and then plotted against their older siblings when the situation warranted retaliation. Ginny was remarkably devious, mischievous, and had a temper that could move mountains. And unless she was purposefully controlling herself, those who knew her didn't have much trouble deciphering the expressions on her face.

But he was damned if he could figure out what she was thinking right now.

Ron leaned back far enough in his chair so his face was hidden in the shadows created by the fire his family was gathered around. His wife was sitting close to her best friend, laughing with her at whatever nonsense his twin brothers were spouting and Ron smiled, knowing how much Hermione had missed having Ginny around. Now that things were going to change so drastically for the two of them, he suspected Hermione would need Ginny more than ever.

It had been hard enough for Hermione to get married without Ginny present and he still didn't know the details of the floo conversation the two had late one night after he and Hermione announced their engagement. When Hermione emerged from the living room where she had been talking to Ginny, Ron was surprised at the mixture of emotions on her face. He expected anger from her that Ginny wouldn't come back to England for the wedding but Hermione had accepted Ginny's decision with a resigned air of tolerance. He had never pressed his fiancé to explain but he trusted her feelings, although he had been a bit angry at Ginny himself.

Ron's gaze turned back to Ginny. He couldn't quite put a name to the emotions he felt from knowing that his baby sister was home for good. When she had said she was leaving England, his reaction had been confusion, followed by swift anger and then, finally a grudging acceptance of her decision. He had not anticipated missing her so much or how Ginny's departure would affect the rest of his family.

They had floundered for days–his mother trying to hide her sniffles as she prepared Ginny's favorite meals night after night in some sort of silent tribute to her daughter. His father had retreated to the front porch with his pipe for a week, silently smoking and staring off across the front yard as if he expected Ginny to show up at any moment. His twin brothers had barricaded themselves inside their basement laboratory at their joke shop in Diagon Alley and Bill had immediately asked his boss at Gringott's Bank for a reassignment back to Egypt as if he couldn't stay in England a moment longer. He hadn't returned until a year later when he became engaged to Fleur Delacour whom he had met while working on a particularly nasty cursed tomb. Charlie had stayed around, trying to keep everyone's spirits up but failing that had eventually taken off for Romania and his dragons.

It wasn't that they hadn't understood why she left. Even Ron had observed that Ginny was struggling. After the defeat of Voldemort, a quiet air of despair had replaced his sister's usual liveliness and Ron would have agreed to anything if it meant she would be happy again. She hadn't been sleeping well and spent hours in the back yard practicing spells, as if she couldn't stand to sit still. She would show up for dinner every night battered and beaten, often so exhausted she fell asleep before dinner was over.

They had all tried to help her but she was so powerful they couldn't be much help when she knocked them out on the first punch. No one could match her power except for Harry, and he had been exhausted after defeating that Dark Tosser and wasn't supposed to use magic. He could tell Harry had felt guilty about not being able to help Ginny. He didn't quite understand what was going on inside of his sister, but Ron had gotten the impression Harry knew a lot more than the rest of them about why she spent hours throwing magic at conjured trees and mounds of stone.

On the nights Ginny would fall asleep at the dinner table; Harry usually noticed first and would push back his chair, pick Ginny up in his arms and carry her like a baby up to her bedroom. Once, when Harry probably thought no one was looking, Ron had spied him pressing his cheek to the top of her head.

After a few months, Harry had been able to use magic and he and Ginny had spent a few hours every day dueling. It had seemed to help and the life that was Ginny sparked again for a while. It was when Ron thought things were returning to normal, that Ginny announced her decision to leave and this time; Ron had no trouble understanding what was going on.

He had always known how Ginny felt for his best friend. She had worn her love for him like a second skin and although she had dated other boys at Hogwarts, she always kept them at arms length. Ron supposed that was one reason why so many boys went after her affections–his sister had presented the ultimate challenge. Each one wanted to be the one who would make Ginny forget the "Chosen One." But no one ever succeeded.

In their sixth year at Hogwarts, Ron thought maybe Harry had finally noticed his sister in the way he knew she had dreamed about. The two had spent hours together learning control over their magic and often returned to the common room laughing and teasing each other in a manner Ron was sure counted as flirting.

In their seventh year, Ron had tentatively broached the subject with Harry but Harry assured him he and Ginny were just good friends. They shared some intense things in common; he had pointed out, and made each other laugh. Not wanting to interfere, Ron had let the matter drop, especially when Harry had started dating other girls. The relationships never got very serious and always ended amicably but there had been plenty of girls lined up to go out with Harry.

Behind their backs, Hermione had always referred to Harry and Ginny as Hogwart's "Golden Couple." And she had been right. The two friends had moved fluidly through the school hallways not noticing the other students who stopped to stare at them, enthralled with the picture they created. Ginny was like fire, Hermione had said, and Harry the earth. They complimented each other in ways that were mesmerizing. When the two walked together, the power that surrounded them was almost palatable.

The Ravenclaws had started a practical dueling club in their seventh year and when Harry and Ginny dueled, either against each other or teamed up against others, they moved in a synchronized dance that laid waste to their opponents.

Once, the two had even dueled four of the professors at the same time in a demonstration still talked about within the walls of Hogwarts. Ron had stood on the sidelines and watched while his sister and best friend spun and pivoted around each other, shooting spells over each other's shoulders and under each other's arms that had knocked out Hogwart's finest teachers in 7 minutes flat.

Ron had recognized that his sister was beautiful but it hadn't stopped him from glaring at every boy who leered at her. Eventually, Harry had joined Ron in his quest to rid Hogwarts of boys who dared make inappropriate comments about Ginny. Once Harry had made it clear that anyone who wanted Ginny had to go through him first, the catcalls and whistles had died down. No one had wanted to challenge Harry.

Ron recalled the moment when most of the school had realized exactly how much power Harry Potter possessed. It had happened one morning at breakfast. Ginny and Harry were always up early for an hour of endurance training before classes and usually saved Ron and Hermione seats in the Great Hall. That particular morning, the two hadn't noticed when Ron and Hermione sat down because they were too involved in what appeared to be an intense argument.

"Just let it go Harry," Ginny had commanded in a fierce whisper. "It didn't mean anything."

"Yes it did Ginny and you know it. You know what he is capable of," Harry had growled back at her.

"Harry, if he tries anything I'll hex him so fast and so hard no one will be able to tell the difference between him and a pile of goo and you know it!" she had retorted angrily, her face flushed as she slammed her fork down on the table and turned her blazing eyes on him.

The look on her face would have had Ron running for the hills by then but Harry was never one to back down and he had never been scared of Ginny. He slammed his own fork down on the table and turned to meet her head on.

"I'm not saying you can't take care of yourself," he had ground out, "I'm saying its Malfoy and he is a sneaky bastard who will use every dirty trick in the book to…" He stopped then to take a deep breath and ran his hand over his face with a sudden sigh of weariness. Ginny seemed to understand the anguish behind his interrupted sentence and had tentatively laid her hand on his arm.

"Hey," she said, now quietly, "I promise I'll let you or Ron know if he tries anything. And you can have first crack at shoving his wand up his…"

"Ginny!" Hermione had interrupted in a scandalized tone. "We are trying to eat breakfast!"

Harry had laughed at her horrified expression and Ron had snorted into his pumpkin juice at the picture his baby sister had created.

Hermione thumped him on the back and when he had stopped choking, Ron asked, "What's going on, what's Malfoy done?"

"He just made a few smart remarks Ron," Ginny said uncomfortably, shifting in her seat. "I took care of it."

Harry snorted and shook his head, his eyes cutting towards Ron's. "I don't think it's going to be enough. Malfoy is never at breakfast this early in the morning. He made it a point to be here early hoping to corner her."

"What exactly did he say Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"He implied that Ginny…," But Harry cut off, his eyes darkening into dark swirls of green as his head suddenly snapped up to stare across the room.

Hermione and Ron turned in their seats to see what Harry was glaring at and found Malfoy watching Ginny with a smirk on his face. He was ignoring Harry's glare and his eyes were flicking back and forth between Ginny's face and her chest in an obvious betrayal of his thoughts.

"Hey!" Ron had shouted, standing up and turning around fully towards Malfoy, his face turning red. "Quit looking at my sister like that!"

But Ron needn't have bothered. Harry was already up and striding angrily towards Malfoy with a thunderous expression on his face. The power rolling off him had students scrambling to avoid him as he made his way to the Slytherin table.

The best part of that moment, Ron reflected, had been that Harry had not even touched Malfoy. He had simply lifted his hand and Malfoy was flung with an unseen force against the wall of the Great Hall where he hung plastered against a window and suspended in the air as his frightened eyes watched Harry come closer. Harry had walked right up to Malfoy, reached out his hand and curled his fingers as if he was holding a ball in front of Malfoy's chest. Another unseen force had bunched the front of Malfoy's robes together as if a fist was gripping them and pulled him down so that Harry could look him directly in the eyes.

"Leave. Her. Alone." He had said in a deadly voice, his expression hard. Malfoy had stared into Harry's eyes, which were by now black with barely controlled anger and gulped.

It had been one of the best moments of Ron Weasley's life and he even now, 5 years later, it still brought a smile to his face.

Two weeks after the incident in the Great Hall, Ron had awoken suddenly after a weird dream involving Hermione and a boggart dancing together in a tango to find the curtains around Harry's bed pulled open and his bed empty. He knew Harry had nightmares and when he couldn't sleep he often went down to the common room, where, he had once told Ron, Ginny sometimes joined him.

Ginny, who had her own nightmares to deal with, either sat in silence with Harry until he was ready to go back to bed or discussed the dreams with him. She had always known which form of therapy he needed and Ron had never figured out how she could read Harry so well. He supposed it came from years of unseen observation.

That particular night, Ron had stumbled down the steps and stopped at the sight of Harry and Ginny asleep tangled up together on the couch in front of a roaring fire. It must have been a bad one, he had decided as he noticed tear tracks on Harry's face. He had walked over to his best friend and sister lying next to each other on the cushions and looked down at them. They were laying face to face, their bodies pressed up against one other, Ginny's arms around his shoulders and Harry's arms wrapped around her waist holding her tight. They were sharing a pillow, their faces so close together they were almost touching and Ginny's long red hair was splayed out behind her like a fan. He noticed Harry's glasses had been placed on the table in front of the couch and decided that Harry had fallen asleep first. As if he felt Ron staring at him, Harry shifted suddenly in sleep and Ron froze, hoping his friend wouldn't wake to find him staring at them. But Ginny had unconsciously lifted up a hand to run her fingers through his hair and Harry had settled back into sleep, pulling Ginny up against him and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck where he stayed, breathing deeply.

Ron had almost woken them up on purpose. It wasn't really appropriate for them to be sleeping like that together and he had just reached out a hand to nudge Harry on the shoulder when his conscience stopped him. Harry had a truly peaceful expression on his face and he couldn't bring himself to wake his best friend up from what seemed to be a deep sleep. He had backed away and walked back up the stairs to his dormitory, staring in thought at the canopy over his own bed before dropping back off to sleep himself.

The memory of that night and the way Harry had defended Ginny to Malfoy had stuck with Ron and made him even more suspicious of his best friend's feelings towards his sister. He had broached the subject again with Harry who had vehemently denied feeling that way for Ginny, insisting they were just extremely close friends who understood certain things about each other they couldn't share very well with other people.

So he wasn't surprised when, after defeating Voldemort, Harry made no move deepen their relationship.

But it had hurt his heart to watch Ginny's final acceptance of this. He knew she had waited around, hoping Harry would finally make a move now that he was free. When it was clear Harry wasn't going to, she had left.

Ron looked over at his wife, still sitting with Ginny on the other side of the fire and she met his eyes for a brief moment and smiled. His heart fluttered. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like if Hermione hadn't loved him back. It would have been unbearable and he probably would have taken the same action as Ginny.

In truth, Ron couldn't think of any two people better suited for each other than Harry and Ginny. They had always had a connection, often seeming to communicate without words and he had watched for six years as Ginny's eyes followed Harry around the room and while she insisted on placing herself in danger in any effort to help him. It had been a frustrating paradox for him. He wanted his sister happy but safe at the same time and while he trusted his best friend with his life, it was quite another to trust him with his sister's. It had been a relief really, when Ginny had confessed to her family the amount of magical power she wielded because he knew it meant she could defend herself.

When Ginny announced she was leaving, Ron's first concern had been for his sister and his second had been for Harry. The fight with Voldemort had messed Harry up. He had killed someone, taken more than one life, and even though it was necessary at the time, he hadn't dealt well with his remorse afterwards. He knew Harry relied a great deal on Ginny and he wasn't sure he could deal with the demons and nightmares if she were gone.

He had known his concern was well placed when Harry had immediately disappeared for five days after Ginny left for Paris.

Harry had sent an owl to the Weasley's saying he was visiting Remus for a few days but when Ron flooed Remus with an invitation to dinner at the Burrow one night, Remus had said with surprise that he hadn't seen Harry in over a week. Ron had stood up from the fireplace with a sinking feeling.

Choosing not to get everyone in an uproar over Harry's disappearance, Ron threw on his cloak and went looking for his best friend. He had looked for hours, checking the wizarding pubs, Hogwarts, Godric's Hollow, even Privet Drive. After Harry's uncle had slammed the door in his face, Ron decided there was only one more place Harry might have gone to wallow in depression and he apparated to Number 12 Grimmauld Place–Sirius' old home and the abandoned headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

After placing his wand tip in the door so the house could recognize him, he had opened the door slowly not knowing what to expect. The house was dark and perpetually dreary. He had tiptoed past the portrait of Sirius' mother so as not to wake her and moved down the dark hallway to the parlor where a flickering light shone through an open doorway.

There was Harry. He was passed out on a faded old couch in front of a dying fire, surrounded by abandoned take out containers and empty bottles of firewhisky. Ron had cringed. His friend had obviously not showered or shaved in some time and the despair on his face was apparent even in sleep. Not wanting to startle someone who wielded enough magical power to destroy the darkest wizard of all time, Ron had backed out of the room, reached this wand through the door, shouted "lumos" and ducked back out of the way. The room had lit up with the lighting spell and Harry had jerked awake, his eyes moving wildly around the room searching for its source.

Ron poked his head in the door and said cheerily, "Hello mate!"

Harry had groaned, clutched his head and flopped back down on the couch, covering his eyes with his arm. "Turn off the light," he moaned.

"Nope!" Ron said brightly, walking into the room and sitting down with a thump next to Harry. "It's time for wakey-wakey and seriously mate, if you don't get up and shower I'm gonna get Fred and George. You know they'll be a lot more cheerful than I am."

Harry groaned again at the thought and moved to sit up, still clutching his head in his hands. He sat up and leaned back against the couch turning his bleary eyes towards Ron.

"Why do you hate me?" he asked plaintively. "Haven't I been a good friend? Haven't I kept your secrets? Haven't I kept shut about that stack of "PlayWitch" you have underneath your bed even though I know Hermione would love to hear that bit of information? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Ignoring the comment about his stash of magazines, Ron looked at Harry and asked quietly, "I'd rather know what in the bloody hell is wrong with you? You disappeared and didn't tell anyone. If you had wanted to go on a drinking binge you could have at least told someone, so we wouldn't worry."

Harry had looked down at the hands in his lap and mumbled, "I didn't want anyone to know I was gone." He was quiet. "Or that I was drinking," he added.

"I can tell," Ron said wryly, "the question is, why? What's the big secret?"

Harry was quiet again and then looked up at him with so much pain in his green eyes it took Ron's breath away.

"You know why," he pleaded quietly. "Don't make me say it."

Ron had looked away then and stared at the fire for a few minutes before finally saying, "I'm not sure I do know why. I don't understand this. I'm not trying to be thick because I know she is an important friend to you but this seems to be an extreme reaction."

"If you wanted her to have stayed you only had to ask," he reasoned. "She would have stayed for you. She would have done anything you asked of her."

Harry had stood up then, swaying a bit as he did so. He walked over to the stash of bottles laying underneath a nearby table and kicked the empty bottles aside until he found one that still had some liquor in it. He popped out the cork and took a long swallow before slamming the bottle down on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He turned back to face Ron who noticed the liquor hadn't managed to relieve the pain on his face.

Harry looked down at the table and had flicked a finger at a piece of parchment lying there. The movement lifted up the parchment and it sailed over to Ron, Harry guiding it with his finger. Ron grabbed it out of the air and shooting Harry a questioning glance, bent the paper up to the light so he could read it. It contained only one sentence:

_"I will hurt her."_

Ron read it again before looking back up at Harry who was staring into the fire, still clutching the half-empty bottle of firewhisky.

"I don't understand--what does this mean?"

Harry took another swallow from the bottle and said, choking back the whisky, "It's talking about Ginny."

"But what about Ginny and who is it from? What does it mean Harry?" said Ron, getting irritated with his friend's obtuse answers.

Harry had turned to face Ron with a sudden expression of weariness. He rubbed his face with his right hand, the left one still clutching the bottle and said, "It's from Malfoy."

"Malfoy? He's dead. Ginny killed him herself. You know that. He was about to curse you in the back. She blew him with a reducto curse through three buildings. Never seen anything like it."

"It's from Draco Malfoy," Harry clarified. "An owl sent it to the Burrow four weeks ago. Don't ask me how I know it's from him, I wouldn't be able to explain it. He wants Ginny. He always has. He wants to get at her to hurt me. You know he has always thought the world a better place if I'm miserable."

"But Draco's on the run and you know it. The ministry is after him. They know he was a death eater and anyway, why go after Ginny? If he wanted to hurt you he could go after any number of people."

Harry had taken another swig of whisky and avoided looking in Ron's direction.

And that told Ron everything he needed to know.

Suddenly realizing why going after Ginny would hurt Harry more than going after anyone else, Ron had stood up, letting the parchment fall back to the floor. Harry's eyes followed the paper as it fell, refusing to meet Ron's eyes that were now filled with fury on behalf of his sister. Ron took two long strides across the room, grabbed Harry by the front of the shirt, dragged him to the nearest wall and slammed him up against it. The bottle of whisky dropped from his fingers and crashed on the floor from the force of Ron's actions.

Ron leaned his face in close to Harry's, his face purple with anger, and had growled at him: "Say it."

Harry clutched at Ron's hands, trying to twist them off but five days of drinking hadn't prepared him for a physical fight and he stopped struggling, staring warily at his friend.

His eyes met Ron's and Ron wasn't sure he had ever seen Harry look so cornered.

"I can't!" Harry burst out desperately. "If I say it, it makes it real!"

"SAY IT!" Ron had shouted, shaking Harry so hard his head knocked up against the wall he had him pinned against. "Say it or I swear I will drag you to Paris right now and force you to say it to her instead!"

Harry had slumped in Ron's grip defeated and looking down at his feet suspended in the air, had mumbled, "Ilushr."

"Louder!" Ron had demanded. "Say it like you mean so I know you're not lying." This had been a tricky move on Ron's part because he knew that more than anything; Harry hated to be called a liar.

Harry had jerked his head up to stare his best friend in the eyes.

"I love her," he had said quietly and firmly. "I love her," he repeated. "More than anything. Of course I do."

Ron had seen the truth in his eyes. He had dropped Harry on the ground in disgust and backed away.

"Then don't you think she would like to know that?" he had whispered ferociously. "Then why in the name of Merlin haven't you told her that you STUPID PILLOCK!" he shouted, his voice getting louder with each word. "She's gone! She thinks you don't love her you arsehole! WHY DO YOU THINK SHE LEFT," he had screamed at Harry, and in a burst of energy, he had picked up an empty whisky bottle and flung it against the opposite wall where it crashed into tiny little pieces with the force.

"I KNOW!" Harry had roared back, springing up from his position on the floor. "I KNOW! BUT I CAN'T LET HER DIE BECAUSE OF ME! I'M TOO DANGEROUS!"

Ron had stood dumbfounded at his friend. How thick could one person be? Ginny didn't care about that. She had never cared. And his baby sister could hold her own in a fight. Harry knew that. She had kicked his arse a number of times at Hogwarts when they were practicing dueling. If anyone had respected Ginny's power, it had been Harry.

"Are you daft?" he demanded. "Ginny can take care of herself and you know it. She's kicked your sorry arse more times than anyone else."

"But Ron," Harry insisted, "It's Malfoy. MALFOY. You know what he is capable of. He is going to go after her. And until I find him, I can't let her know how I feel. It would put her in too much danger!"

"You ARE daft!" Ron had declared. "You are the stupidest, dumbest prat…" and he had proceeded to call Harry every foul thing he could think of for the next five minutes. Harry had looked impressed with Ron's command of the English language in spite of the intensity of the situation.

"And finally," Ron had raged, winding up his tirade, "Just because you let her leave without telling her how you felt doesn't mean Malfoy won't still go after her! She's gone and now we can't even keep an eye on her!"

Harry had blanched.

He really was thicker than mud, Ron thought, glaring at his best friend, if the dumbass hadn't already thought of that particular point. But then Harry had pulled himself together and they had continued their argument. Ron thought it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard but he understood Harry's instinctual need to protect Ginny. He felt the same possessiveness for Hermione and would do anything he could think of if it meant keeping her safe.

Finally throwing his hands up in defeat, Ron had faced Harry and said in a hard voice, "Do you realize what you have done to her? How much you have hurt her? She has been in love with you for SIX years. She has stood by you, fought for you and killed to protect you. And she did it all because she loves you. Don't you think she deserves to know how you feel?"

Harry had collapsed back onto the couch, his head between his hands. He was shaking and Ron realized with a start that his friend was crying.

"I know," he said shakily. "And it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Watching her walk away like that and keeping quiet. But this is the only thing I know how to do. If it was anyone else I wouldn't have cared so much but it's MALFOY and he is capable of some really evil shit. I know. I've felt it in him."

He stopped and looked up at Ron. "I really do love her," he had said fiercely. "With everything that I am. You have no idea…" He broke off to wipe away a few tears that had escaped, and was silent again.

"How long?" Ron had asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He had been really reluctant to let his friend off the hook.

"At least two years," Harry had replied glumly. "And you have no idea how hard its been trying to keep it a secret. I've barely been able to admit it to myself, let alone anyone else." He groaned, his heads still in his hands and then looked back at Ron, pleading with his eyes for understanding.

"You lied to _me_," Ron thundered. "You lied to _her_! You lied to _everyone_! The only reason my brothers and I didn't kick your arse was because we believed you when you swore you didn't love her!"

"I had to!" Harry hissed. "I wasn't trying to hurt her. I knew how she felt. But Voldemort had that back door into my head and I was afraid he would find out how I felt about her if I admitted it. You saw how he used me to get to Sirius. As strong as Ginny is she couldn't have handled Voldemort by herself and who knows what he would have done to get her!"

They were both silent for a moment, glaring at each other. Letting out a sigh, Ron walked back over to sit down next to his friend.

"How did Malfoy find out then?"

"I'm not sure," Harry confessed. "I think it was that day in the Great Hall when I threw him up against the wall. He was scared of me I could tell but I think he must have done legilimency on me. It's the only way he could have known. I would have been an easy target. My only thought at the time was of Ginny. He would have been able to tell."

"So what are you going to do now?" Ron had asked, wearily. It had been a long night and he was ready to go home and curl up around Hermione. For once, their relationship seemed uncomplicated.

"Go after Malfoy," Harry had answered immediately. "Ginny isn't safe until he's caught."

"And once you find him? What then? Will you tell her?"

Harry had paused, thinking. "I suppose I owe her that."

"Yeah you do," Ron had said shortly. "You owe her a lot more than that you big wanker." He stood up and brushed off the back of his jeans that were covered in dust from sitting on the couch.

"And once you get that git you will go to Paris and find my sister and you will tell her how you feel, beg her forgiveness and live the rest of your life trying to make this up to her."

"Deal," Harry said, grinning up at him. "And I can think of a lot of interesting ways to do that."

"Don't joke," Ron snapped. "This isn't the least bit funny. You're lucky I don't beat you into a bloody pulp for the way you've treated her." He gripped Harry under the arm and hauled him up to look him in the eye. "I am going to hold you to that promise Potter," he growled at him. "And if you aren't on a portkey to France the moment Malfoy gets a kissed by a dementor, I will drag you there in a very small box." He shoved Harry back on the couch and turned to walk towards the door.

"I didn't tell anyone you were gone," he tossed back over his shoulder. "So clean yourself up and get back to the Burrow before Mum realizes you're not actually at Remus' house."

"Ron!" Harry had called. Ron turned back around quizzically. "Thanks mate."

Ron had smiled at him briefly. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. I won't even tell Hermione," he promised. "But I am going to remind you of your promise."

And he had. Every year on the anniversary of the day Harry had confessed his feelings about Ginny to Ron, Ron had quietly cornered him and made him swear to stick to his promise. And when Harry had finally dragged Draco Malfoy into the Ministry of Magic, two years after the git had gone to ground, Ron had silently handed over the portkey that would send Harry to Paris. He had upheld his end of the bargain and now he expected Harry to do the same.

Harry had taken the portkey with a blank expression. He had returned three hours later, his face pale when he knocked on the door of Ron and Hermione's house.

Ron had opened the door and felt his own face fall at the sight of his best friend. Things had obviously not gone well. He held the door open for Harry to pass through and followed him into the living room.

Harry was standing in front of the fireplace, staring a picture of Ginny and Hermione. Ron stayed silent, waiting for his friend to speak.

"I saw her," Harry finally said. He turned to look at Ron and his eyes were filled with the same pain Ron had noticed in them two years earlier when he had found Harry drunk with despair over Ginny's flight to Paris.

"I went there just like you said I should, and I was walking to the address you gave me when I turned the corner and saw her. She was coming out of this restaurant and she was with this guy," Harry stopped and swallowed. "She looked so happy with him. They were laughing and…and…kissing and I just couldn't…I couldn't do it."

Harry had looked up at Ron with a defeated look. "She's happy mate and I couldn't take that away from her."

He sat down on the couch with a thump. "She's over me. She's moved on and I don't blame her. She doesn't need me barging in and messing up her life again. She deserves happiness."

"What makes you think she wouldn't still be happy with you?"

Harry had swallowed again and looked down at his feet. "She looked incredibly happy Ron. I've never seen her look like that. And I knew it wasn't because of me. I know she loved me…once…but she's obviously found a way to move past it."

And that was that. Ron hadn't pressed Harry, he had simply sent Hermione to her mother's house for the night and the two of them had proceeded to get rip roaring drunk. He remembered very little of the actual drinking but when he woke up the next morning, Harry had handed him a hangover potion and thanked him for being a good friend.

They never discussed it again. Harry had thrown himself into his life. He had spent too much of it, he claimed, on hunting down dark wizards. He was going to relax and enjoy himself. He had quit his promising job as an Auror with the Ministry of Magic and focused all his energy on remodeling Grimmauld Place.

It was a surprise move, Ron reflected, but Harry had remarked that it probably gave Sirius a good chuckle to watch his godson turn his ancestral house into a house worthy of a Gryffindor.

He had also dated women. A lot of women. Most women were dying to get a chance at the "Boy-Who-Lived" and Harry had dated some of less annoying ones. He never let it get serious; the relationship never lasted more than 2 or 3 dates and Ron suspected that Harry was just passing the time.

When his mother had reminded everyone one evening at supper that Ginny was returning home in less than a week, Ron noticed Harry had flinched at the news. He had followed Harry out into the backyard that evening and fell into step beside him.

"So," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Ginny's coming home."

"Yeah," Harry had replied dully.

Ron remained silent as they continued their walk along the garden path. Finally he said, "I think you should tell her." He didn't elaborate; Harry knew what he was talking about.

Harry had inhaled sharply and then slowly exhaled before saying, "Do you think that will change anything? She'll only be mad at me."

"Maybe, maybe not." Ron had said noncommittally. "But she deserves to know and if you're ever going to be friends with her again you'll be honest with her about how you once felt and why you didn't tell her. I know you--it will eat away at you until you tell her the truth."

Harry had nodded his head and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground before looking up and meeting Ron's eyes. "Okay," he had said firmly. "Just give me some time."

"Done, mate," Ron had said, clapping his friend on the back as they turned back towards the house.

Hermione stood up and walked over to her husband, sitting gracefully down in his lap and startling him out of his reminiscing. His arms automatically came up around her waist and he hugged her to him, leaning his head on her shoulder. Ginny and Harry were now seated next to one another, her fiery head bent towards his dark one as they spoke in low voices. They still looked like fire and earth.

"I think it's time Ron," Hermione whispered.

"Time for what?" Ron asked, moving his head to look at her. Hermione just looked at him with raised eyebrows and he suddenly realized what she meant.

"Oh, time! Yeah alright." He pushed her off his lap and stood up, taking her hand in his. He cleared his throat loudly and waited for his family to look at them.

"Hermione and I have an announcement to make," He said, looking back at his wife and squeezing her hand.

He turned back to the others and noticed his mother's hopeful expression. He grinned at her and said, "We're having a baby."

There were gasps and cries of joy around the fire as people jumped up to hug them. Molly promptly burst into tears and Arthur automatically put his arm around her before smiling proudly at his son. Fred and George stayed seated in apparent shock.

"Why I didn't know the old bean had it in him, did you Fred?" George said with an astonished look on his face.

"No indeed George. I had no idea our ickle Ronniekins could produce. I wasn't even sure he knew how to go about it."

Ron's ears started turning red but Charlie took care of things for him when he moved to stand behind the twins and knocked their heads together. Ignoring their cries of indignation, he walked over to Ron and thumped him on the back.

"Good show old man, way to go," he said shaking his hand. Charlie then turned to Hermione, took her hand and brought it to his lips kissing it lightly before saying, "And you, are you sure you know what you're doing? Bringing another potential Ron into this world?"

"Oi!" Ron yelled at his brother, shoving him away from Hermione and slugging his brother on the arm.

"Just joking!" Charlie said, rubbing the spot where Ron had hit him.

"Charlie!" an irritated voice said behind him. Charlie winced and turned around to see a small blond-haired pixie-of-a-woman standing with her fists on her hips shooting daggers at him. "S'alright Natalia, just a bit of a joke."

"Well it wasn't funny. You're supposed to offer congratulations, not insult the offspring!" she chided and led her husband away after quickly hugging Hermione and Ron herself.

Ginny stood up with a fluid grace and made her way to Hermione. She put her hands on her friend's upper arms, stared into her eyes with a goofy grin and pulled her in for a hug. After a moment, she pulled back and placed her hand on Hermione's belly. Hermione stayed still, feeling the heat spreading through her womb with Ginny's touch.

The smile on Ginny's face got even wider and she slid her arms around Hermione again, pressing their cheeks together.

"There are two," she whispered into her ear.

Hermione pulled back, her eyes widening as she stared at Ginny. "Two?" She choked out. "How can you tell? Ron…" she stuttered, reaching for his hand.

"What Hermione? What is it?" Ron turned away from an enthusiastic Harry to look at his wife.

"It's Ginny, she says…" but Hermione stared at him in shock and couldn't seem to get the words out.

"What about Ginny? What does she say? Ginny, what did you do?" accused Ron, looking at his sister.

Ginny grinned widely at her brother and took his hand, placing it on Hermione's stomach. "There are two," she stated firmly, looking at Ron as he stared at her, his face expressing stages of shock at an alarming rate as Ginny's announcement sunk in.

"Two babies…" Ron finally breathed. "Hermione…" He turned to his wife. "TWO babies Hermione! That means twins!" And he kissed his wife soundly before picking her up in his arms and swung her around shouting "Twins, its' twins!"

"Put me down you big oaf!" Hermione squealed, pounding her fists on her husband's shoulders with a wide grin on her face.

"What!" Molly gasped. "Twins…Ginny how can you be sure?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it mum, I can just tell."

Ron set Hermione down and turned to look at his baby sister with a sweet mixture of awe and happiness on his face. "Are you sure?"

Ginny put her hand up to Ron's cheek, moved by his excitement. "I'm sure," she said firmly. "You should take her to the healer next week to be sure but I'm positive its twins."

"And," she added, glancing at Hermione, "I'm pretty sure they're identical."

"But how can you tell that?" Hermione said, her hands moving automatically to her belly.

Ginny smiled mysteriously. "I just know."

Harry stepped up with his hand outstretched towards Hermione. "May I?" he asked, indicating her stomach. She nodded and he kept his palm on her stomach for a few moments before backing away and grinning at the hopeful expressions on Ron and Hermione's faces.

"Well, there are definitely two magical signatures in there," he told them. "But there's no way for me to tell if they're identical. You'll have to trust her."

Ron and Hermione turned to each with delighted expressions and embraced again, Hermione babbling in Ron's ear about DNA and genetics.

Backing away to stand next to Ginny, Harry observed her profile. There was a wistful expression on her face as she watched Ron and Hermione spread the news to rest of the family, the excitement catching.

"How did you know?" He asked her quietly, searching her face.

She turned bright eyes towards him that were swirling with an emotion he couldn't name and smiled faintly. "I just know," she answered. "You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know how that is," Harry agreed. She looked so beautiful by the firelight it took his breath away and he could barely keep himself from touching her. She was glowing, almost as if the light inside of her was trying to get out and join the celebration.

He couldn't stand it any longer and nudged his right hand against her left, lacing his fingers through hers and bringing them up to his mouth.

"Thank you," he whispered, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

"For what?" she asked in a low voice, watching his mouth at her hand.

"For coming home and making them happy," he answered, nodding at the rest of her family. "They're important to me," he said simply.

She gently took her hand out of his and looked back at the others. Fred and George were now on their knees talking to Hermione's stomach and making all sorts of devious promises to what they were sure would be new nephews named Forge and Gred, while their wives tried to pull them away, laughing.

Ginny turned back to Harry, her eyes twinkling. "They were happy before too," she told him.

"Yeah, but you're back now and it's like they're…complete…again." It's like I'm complete again too, he added silently.

"Well I'm really glad to be back. I can't tell you how I've missed this."

"I think I know," he said, searching her face. "You look happy too." He cleared his throat. "Were you happy there? In Paris, I mean?" No sense in avoiding the subject, he thought, they had to talk about it sometime.

"Not right away," she said looking down at the ground and shoving her hands into her pockets, the bangles on her arm clinking together. "It was really difficult at first. But over time, it got easier."

"Hmmm," Harry said nonchalantly, turning back to the fire. "And what made it easier?"

He was genuinely curious he realized. They had always shared so much with each other and it was weird to not have a clue about the past four years of her life.

"People," she shrugged. "Coursework, professors, the city…eventually it all came together."

"Did you make lots of friends, then?" He asked, trying to maintain an even tone. What a stupid question, he scolded himself, of course she made friends. People were drawn to Ginny like a moth to a flame.

Ginny laughed, almost to herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards Harry and raised an eyebrow, "You're being very patient with me."

Harry grinned sheepishly. She knew him too well. She knew he wanted to bombard her with questions.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I really want to ask you a million questions but I know we probably should ease into things."

"It's okay," Ginny said honestly. And it was. She owed him this moment and an explanation, she decided. She had left under intense circumstances and had avoided all contact with him since. He needed to know that she had missed his friendship. He needed to know that she wanted to try to be friends–that she could put aside her once-epic feelings for him and focus on the friendship they had once shared. So much had happened in Paris and she wanted to tell him about it.

"Oh Harry," she sighed, "You were always so good to me. You never pushed me and I'm so grateful for that." She squeezed his arm and looked at him brightly. "How about that walk now?"

"Okay," he agreed.

As she took his hand to lead him to the path that led towards the lake at the edge of the Burrow property, he allowed himself one moment of weakness and opened up a connection to the magic rolling off of her. The white-hot heat hit him and he was glad she was looking the other direction because his eyes rolled back in his head, his breath quickened and his step faltered. Merlin that felt good. He hadn't felt the passion inside of her for far too long and his magic had missed its equal.

He noticed with dismay the fire inside of her swelling when it sensed the tendril of his own power stretching towards it. That meant she could probably feel what he had done. Her powers had matured.

If she felt it though, she didn't say and with a wave at her father, she dropped Harry's hand and ran a few steps ahead, turning back around to look at him with the sun setting behind her. "C'mon Potter!" she shouted at him. "I'll race you!" And took off like a shot down the path.

Harry froze. She had looked like a goddess standing there with the sun behind her and the slight breeze blowing the wind away from her face. But then his competitive side kicked in and he took off after her, protesting at the way she had cheated.

Oh yeah, he grinned to himself, his feet pounding down the path, he was definitely still in love with Ginny Weasley.


	5. Chapter 5 Just Like Magic

Ginny ran as fast as she could down the path leading to the lake behind her parent's house. She chanced a look back over her shoulder and, seeing that Harry was gaining on her, used a bit of magic to enhance her speed. It was probably cheating but she figured it was more important to beat Harry who, if she remembered correctly, could be quite the sore winner.

Her feet were now flying over the ground with an unnatural speed as she approached the lake. Suddenly realizing she was going too fast to stop properly, she tried to brake but her high-heeled boots skidded on the ground, scrambling to gain footing with the abrupt halt. Throwing out a jolt of power to halt her progress, she came to a stop just at the edge of the lake.

Laughing breathlessly at her own clumsiness, she turned around to see Harry running up just behind her.

Harry skidded to a halt himself and leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees, panting heavily. "You…cheated…" he said between breaths.

"Meh," she said, flipping her hair behind her shoulder, "I don't need to cheat to beat you. You couldn't win a race if you had wings on your back."

"Wings on my back can be arranged," he shot back playfully, and having gotten his breath back, stood up and looked out at the lake. The sun was setting over the water. A large-winged bird was swooping down to fly low; presumably looking for fish just underneath the lake's surface and Harry felt a wave of peace wash over him. He looked down and saw Ginny's hand on his arm, her eyes twinkling. She was trying to tell him something.

"You're an empath aren't you?" he guessed.

"Among other things," she acknowledged, "Yes."

"That's how you could tell about Hermione's babies and how you took Fred's pain away after Jacques kicked him the bollocks."

She smiled at him, and his stomach took a familiar nosedive as her whole face lit up.

"It happened about three years ago. I wasn't sure what was happening to me at the time, but I had this insane need to soothe people, to calm them down. I didn't know what it meant until my Animal Transfiguration professor saw me comforting a friend of mine who was upset at her boyfriend. She cornered me later and told me what I had done. I didn't even know I was doing anything."

She laughed softly, looking down at her feet. "Once I accepted she was right it was like the floodgates opened and I found myself wanting to help everyone. It was like an addiction, I NEEDED to take away their pain. It got a bit out of hand really. An empath can only take away so much tension and pain before she starts to feel it herself. My professor finally realized what was going on and put me in touch with a local empath. She trained me and it's easier to control now."

"How does it work?"

She shrugged. "I'm not really sure of the science of it. I just know that when I touch someone, I can tell if they're hurting and where. Somehow I can pinpoint the source and…just…dissolve it somehow."

"And Hermione's twins?"

"Oh!" she breathed, looking out over the water. "That wasn't just the empathy although I'm sure that helped. I thought I could sense something different about her earlier. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time but after Ron told us about the baby, I touched her and I could feel the light inside of her. It was beautiful. I thought it seemed kind of large for a fetus when I noticed one light hiding behind the other. Two separate lights. And they were exactly the same. That's why I think they're identical. They came from the same source, the same egg. Two boys, but I didn't tell her that. Let it be a surprise."

"So an empath is sort of a healer?" Harry asked curiously.

"Sort of a natural healer," she amended.

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the shallow waves crash on the lake shore. Harry wasn't sure how to start this conversation but he knew they needed to have it. They had so much to discuss but he was damned if he knew where to begin.

He decided to start with something simple.

"I've missed you Phoenix," he said softly, not looking at her.

Ginny closed her eyes and let an unnamed feeling wash over her. _Phoenix_. It had been his nickname for her back at Hogwarts. She was fiery, he had claimed, and Phoenixes were creatures of fire–just like her. The nickname had eventually been shorted to simply "Nix" and he had used it the most when they had been alone…just like now.

She turned to look at him. He was staring at her with an intense look on his face. Merlin, she had missed those eyes. They had always held her. She could have spent a lifetime staring into them and right now, looking at them again, she couldn't remember why she had ever stopped.

All the preparation in the world couldn't have prepared Ginny for the sight of Harry when she had come down the stairs earlier to greet him. He had stood there looking up at her with a look in his eyes that had nearly taken her breath away. He was gorgeous. The last time she had seen him he had been thin and pale with a haunted look leftover from his battle with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. That Harry was gone and he had been replaced with an obviously healthy man with broad shoulders, a hard chest (she knew because she had unconsciously pressed herself against it), and sparkling green eyes. He was missing his glasses, she had noticed and it made not looking into his eyes extremely difficult.

The shadows under his eyes were gone and Harry looked, she decided now, really happy. Content. And oh goddess, he was tan! Harry Potter was tan. Ginny had never seen a tanned Harry Potter and the effect was…stimulating. His skin seemed to shine with an inner light and power moved over him like a second skin. Earlier, when he had surreptitiously tried to sense her magic, the raw energy he had shot at her was more arousing than she cared to think about.

She turned to look at him, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"No one has called me that in a long time," she said softly.

"I'm glad," Harry said, reaching out to take her small hand in his large, Quidditch-roughened one. "I don't want anyone else to call you that but me." He squeezed her hand and let it drop back to her side.

"Harry," she began, still looking at him. "When I decided to come back here I promised myself that I wouldn't run from this conversation. The Ginny who left here four years ago would have put this off for as long as she could but I've changed since then, and I swore to myself that I would not come back here pretending like nothing had happened. I knew there would be some hard feelings."

She stopped and looked down at her feet, scuffing the heel of her left boot on the ground. 

"My brothers especially," she continued thickly, "were hurt many times over because I wouldn't come back for them. They visited me in Paris of course but it wasn't the same."

"And you," she said lifting her head to look at him again. "I never once contacted you and I know that must've hurt. I started a hundred letters to you that first year but I never knew what to say. What could I have said? Eventually I just decided that everything I had to say to you had already been said and left it at that."

"But it didn't stop me from missing you," she said, reaching out her hand to touch him on the arm. "I missed being your friend. There were things happening inside of me that I knew you would've understood better than anyone else…" She reached out to put a hand on his other arm, making him face her.

"I am so sorry," she said fervently. "I am so sorry that I wasn't there for you, I know you were struggling. And I am sorry that I put our friendship on hold without discussing it with you first…but Harry, you have to know, it wasn't something I felt control over. I HAD to leave. Being in Paris…it helped me a lot. It was very healing for me, and not just because of you. I had a lot to deal with and it was easier to be removed from it. Can you understand that?"

Harry's eyes roamed her face. "I won't deny that it was very difficult," he said slowly. "You were my best friend and at the time, I needed all the friends I could get…but Gin…I understood. I still understand. You explained it when you left and it's time you stop feeling guilty about this. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Were you very angry with me then?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want to lie to her but he wasn't really ready to tell her the truth–that he had been mostly angry with himself for letting her go. He had been livid with Malfoy and he had raged at the universe that had never seemed to cut him some slack. But not angry with her, never angry with her. He had understood from the very beginning why she left and he had never blamed her.

"I was upset," he said carefully. "But I never blamed you. Truly Ginny, I understood why you left."

"Upset though?"

"Well," he pointed out, "I had just lost my best friend. While still recovering from killing an evil dark wizard and a few death eaters. It was a lot for me deal with. Of course I was upset."

"What did you do?" she asked curiously. She knew him–there would have been an extreme reaction.

"I got pissed," he said honestly. "For five days straight. Ron finally found me and smacked some sense into me."

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? It wasn't your fault. Even though I missed you I still wanted you to be happy."

"Besides," he continued, starting to walk with her along the lake's edge, "I did some healing too. I had a lot of shit to deal with. There were things I had never dealt with before because I was too busy trying to avoid being killed by a maniacal wizard."

Ginny crossed her arms across her chest, hugging them to her body and strolled with him. "Still, a part of me wishes I could have been there to help you through it."

"I know you do. It was always in your nature to put me first and Ginny…I can't tell you how good that made me feel…how much it meant." He swallowed thickly realizing he had never really thanked her for being such a good friend. "You were a wonderful friend Phoenix, I wouldn't have made it out of that alive if it wasn't for you," he said urgently.

"But honestly Gin, after you left, it was easier to talk about things with someone who was a bit removed from the situation. Kind of like you and Paris."

"What do you mean? Who did you talk to?"

"Well, your father hooked me up with a sort of wizard counselor at St. Mungo's. Nice bloke, very understanding and not at all awed by the famous Harry Potter. Very discreet too. I told your dad that I didn't want anybody I had to obliviate so they wouldn't go running to Rita Skeeter with an exclusive about the mental anguish of the Boy-Who-Lived. He really came through for me; helped a lot."

"I'm glad then," she said. "It makes me feel less guilty about it."

"There is no need to feel guilty about anything," he stated firmly, taking her left hand in his right. "It was time I grew up too. You did what you had to do for yourself and I can not blame you for that."

They were silent for several minutes, walking hand in hand by the lake. Suddenly Harry stopped and turned to face her.

"You don't have to answer this but," he paused, not sure if she would think him impertinent. "Do you still feel that way about me?" He couldn't stop the question from coming out of his mouth. He had to know if he still had a chance with her.

"Harry,"and she smiled, putting a hand to his cheek, "goddess, you have changed. The Harry Potter I knew would have sooner served a detention in the dungeons with Snape than to ask such a question." She took her hand away and searched his eyes.

"I will always love you," she said softly, "I wasn't lying about that four years ago and I'm not lying about it now. But am I still _in love_ with you? No. But I'd like to try and be your friend again, if you'll have me."

Harry's heart sank. It was true then, she didn't love him anymore. He hadn't really expected her to say yes but a tiny light of hope inside of him had just died. He wanted to curl up in a hole and not come out for days. Well, he shouldn't have been surprised. The universe had always been a frigid bitch.

He smiled bravely at her and said, "Of course Nix, we'll always be friends." She grinned back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stood up on her tiptoes to hug him tightly. Once again, he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and melting into her. She was warm and oh Merlin, she smelled good. He pressed his face into her neck, nuzzling her and inhaling her scent. She smelled spicy, like cinnamon and, he inhaled again, yes there it was–ginger.

"You still smell the same," he murmured, his lips pressed against the curve where her neck met her shoulder. "I can't believe it."

"You do too," she whispered into his ear. "Like earth and fresh soap and broomsticks. I've never forgotten what that smelled like. Once I was walking down the sidewalk in Paris and I swore I smelled you. I actually stopped and looked around expecting to see you. But you weren't there."

He tightened his grip on her in answer. He wondered if it had been the same day he had gone to Paris to tell her he loved her–when he had walked around the corner and saw her with some Parisian git. She hadn't seen him, he knew, because he had ducked into some shadows and watched her walk away…again.

She pulled back from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she pulled away. He wished she would look elsewhere so he could hold a hand on the spot where she had kissed him and savor the feeling of her lips on his skin. Instead, he took her hand again and they continued their stroll around the lake. The conversation took on a lighter tone and he asked her questions about Paris and the school she had attended. 

They laughed together as she shared stories about learning the French language and finding her way around Paris without exposing the entire wizarding world to the muggles. She had fallen in love with the city from the very beginning.

"Wizarding Paris is really neat," she informed him. "A bit like Diagon Alley but bigger. And oh! There's this marvelous little shop there! One time this friend of mine…" And she was off again, chattering happily about Paris and the friends she had made there.

Harry talked too. He told her about being an Auror and why he had decided to quit. "It was just too much," he said. "I've had enough dark wizards to last me a lifetime."

"What've you been doing since then?" she inquired.

"Well," he said sheepishly, running his hand through his already messy hair. "I moved into Grimmauld Place."

"Grimmauld Place! That dreary old thing?"

"Yeah, I remodeled it though. It's taken almost two years to get it looking right. It's a real Gryffindor house now. I think Sirius would have been proud."

"Do you have a job?"

He shot her another sheepish look. "Not really. I do some occasional consulting jobs for the Department of Mysteries and the Auror Department but the thing is Gin…I don't really have to work. My parents left me a fortune and then I've got Sirius' money besides."

"So you're just a man of leisure then?" she teased. "Lay-about Potter, going out with a different bird every night, always the life of the party."

"Hardly," Harry said wryly. "Actually I've tried to give most of Sirius' money away. I figured it would make his mother roll over in her grave if she knew the Black fortune was being spent on worthwhile causes. Sort of a final middle finger from Sirius to his family. I set up a trust for magical children who were orphans, did you know there wasn't one? And donated a bunch of money to lycanthropy research. That one was for Remus. He's not confident they'll ever find a cure but he's always been a negative sort of werewolf. Oh, and I donated a new set of brooms to Hogwarts."

"Am I allowed to ask what sort of consulting work you do for the ministry?"

"No comment."

"Ah…a mystery Potter. No wonder all the ladies fancy you."

Harry snorted. "They're just after me for my money. And of course my body," he added casually. "You said yourself I'm a real hottie."

"I said no such thing!" she exclaimed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Arrogant git."

Harry stopped walking and turned to face her. "Okay," he said firmly, "No more beating around the bush. I want to hear about this magic of yours. I can tell something's changed and it's more than the empathy."

Ginny sighed and searched his face. "Are you sure you're ready for this? It's going to sound ludicrous."

"Start with the eyes," Harry nodded. "What's with the gold ring?"

Ginny sat down on the ground and folded her legs underneath her. Waiting for Harry to join her, she asked, "What do you know about fire goddesses?"

"Fire goddesses," Harry repeated, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "Not much. They were Celtic weren't they? 'Bout 1,000 years ago. Creators of fire or something. Why?"

Ginny sighed again, looking at the water. "They were Celtic, you're right about that. And they didn't create fire, they controlled it. Wielded it like a weapon. The fire goddesses were rulers of some clans settled in Northern Ireland. They thought their powers were a gift from the goddess--Mother Earth or something--but they were also mighty warriors. A chick who can throw fire is a pretty good soldier to have on your side don't you think?"

Harry nodded.

"They had to be warriors," Ginny continued, "Because wizards believed their powers were just another form of magic and there were several attempts to capture the women in an effort to discover their secrets. So they had to learn to fight back to protect themselves."

"It turns out the wizards were sort of right," she said, shifting to face him. "It was magic, just a highly specialized form of it. The gift was passed down from mother to daughter but eventually they died out, diluted by breeding outside the clan I suppose." She tilted her head.

"Until now."

Harry stared at her in shock, the implication of what she was saying sinking in.

"Harry," she continued, "When I left here, leaving you was only part of the reason. You remember how much I was practicing? How I would spend hours throwing magic around the backyard?

He nodded. Yes he remembered. It had been awful to watch. First because he was too weak to help her and then because she hadn't seemed to know when to stop. She had worn herself out every night.

"I did that because I couldn't seem to control the fire inside of me. We've always talked about the volcano you can sense inside of me and that's exactly what it felt like. Only it was getting out of control and I couldn't seem to throw out enough magic to calm it down. Combine that with a huge case of unrequited love and well…it was just too much."

"So I went to Paris and that helped some. That first year was very difficult but I was really learning a lot of new things and the challenge seemed to calm me somehow. Then I discovered the empathy and that helped even more. But eventually my power adapted to the new demands I was making on it and it felt like I was going to burn up on the inside."

Ginny stretched her legs out in front of her and leaned back on her hands. Harry tried not to look at the way the pose thrust her breasts forward or the slim thighs that were just brushing his fingertips as he faced her profile. In a different lifetime he might have been able to stroke that thigh, he thought darkly.

"I started having these really weird dreams of red-haired women dancing around fires, waving swords around and shouting all sorts of crazy things. The dreams woke me up one night and I swear I could hear their drums still beating. I was so hot I was drenched in sweat. I was a little out of mind I guess, so I grabbed my wand and apparated to a pasture outside the city. I just needed to RUN, you know. My insides felt like they were on fire and I was really scared. It was probably a bit like that power surge you had summer after fifth year, only I was awake for it. And it hurt like hell. All of the sudden, it felt like I was exploding and this huge column of fire shot out from me up to the sky. I didn't know what the hell was going on. It seemed to last forever, but once it was finished, it was like the fire was just sucked back into me and I wasn't burning so much anymore."

Harry sat mesmerized by her story. He could just picture a fiery Ginny with her hands stretched up to the sky. "What happened then?"

"I passed out. Woke up two days later in the same pasture with a cow licking my feet. I found my wand and apparated back home to find this gold rim around my pupils."

She grinned at him, "Pretty neat 'eh?"

"But Ginny, that kind of power…how did you learn to control it?"

"Hermione," she replied.

"Hermione?" Harry asked incredulously. "Hermione knew? She never said a word!"

"She wasn't allowed to. It was strictly a Department of Mysteries thing. She wasn't supposed to tell anyone. It was Hermione who found the ancient texts explaining about the fire goddesses. She also found someone in the Ministry of Magic for France that helped me with some training. Throwing fire around is a lot harder than it looks. It can be total devastation if you aren't accurate. Hermione actually knows a lot more about the history than I do. I'm sure she'd love to lecture you about it."

She stopped talking, and looked at him, waiting for him to say something. Did he think she was a freak now? She was proud of her abilities and she wanted to think she had made the right decision in telling him about them.

"Show me."

"What?" she asked, startled.

"Show me," he insisted. "I want to see it."

"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully. "It can be pretty scary."

For an answer, Harry stretched out a hand, and held it about 5 inches off the ground. There was a rumbling and a shaking and the ground underneath his hand began swirling in a whirlpool, as if the dirt was liquid. The ground dipped in the center of the whirlpool and as Harry pointed his hand upwards, the earth shot into the air in a long column of swirling dirt and grass and leaves. Harry directed the column so that it twisted sideways and then down to form a circle with the two of them as the center. The earth whipped around them so fast it sounded like a roar in Ginny's ears and the wind howled.

Harry made a fist and suddenly the tornado of earth stopped and was sucked back into the ground, looking as if it had never been disturbed. Ginny stared at Harry wide-eyed.

"That's pretty scary too," he smirked at her.

"Agreed," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Let's see if this impresses you then."

She stood up in one fluid motion, brushing off the back of her pants and picking the leaves out of her hair. She turned to face him and closed her eyes, holding her hands palm out, cupped as if to receive a blessing.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked curiously

"Shhh, Potter, I'm trying to concentrate. I want this to be really impressive," she said her eyes still closed.

After a moment her eyes flew open and Harry noticed with a start that her pupils were a swirling vortex of gold. A light began to spread throughout her, beginning in the center of her chest and flowing out like liquid to cover her whole body. She was lit from within and her skin sparkled. The power that sang on the air was…arousing. Her hair was blowing around her face and she looked like an angel.

Without speaking, she lifted her hands up to the sky and threw her head back. A column of fire shot up into the sky and Harry couldn't tell if the fire was coming from just her hands or her whole body. Ginny stood in the center of the flames with her eyes closed as the fire licked her skin. Lowering her arms, she opened her eyes, reached one hand out to Harry and beckoned him inside the column of fire. 

"Won't I get burned?" he shouted, trying to be heard over the roar of the fire she had created.

She merely shook her head at him and smiled, motioning for him to take her hand. He placed his hand into hers and his knees nearly buckled. The power of the fire was running through her veins and there was an energy flowing over her skin. He stumbled into the center of the fire in a trance. She pulled him close and slid her arms around his waist. 

"Don't be silly," she exulted. "This is what's inside of me and there could never be anything inside of me that wanted to hurt you! It won't burn you, not if I don't let it!"

"This is amazing Ginny!" he shouted back, looking around them. And it was…truly amazing. The heat was sensual and wasn't even hot enough to burn him. "Can you control the temperature of it?"

"To a point," she nodded. "It couldn't ever burn me though since I control it. Are you impressed yet?"

"Very!" He smiled down at her. The wind created by the firestorm was swirling her hair and locks of it were hitting him in the face. He placed both of his hands on her head and smoothed the tresses into a ponytail. Saying a quick spell, he took his hands away, leaving her hair bound.

"You look beautiful!" he yelled at her.

She grinned at him, the flames of fire dancing over them and he found himself unconsciously leaning towards her. Gods he wanted to kiss her. To taste her with the fire dancing over both their bodies.

Her lips parted and for a minute he thought she recognized what he wanted and would kiss him back. But she moved past his lips and shouted in his ear, "Share magic with me?"

Harry immediately stiffened and he backed away. "Shut it off," he managed to croak out, "and say that again."

Ginny lowered her hands and the fire was sucked back inside of her like a vacuum. The wind died down and she looked at him with a hard, blazing look on her face.

"You heard me."

Harry had seen that look before. It usually meant that she was determined and wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted. 

"Why?" he asked slowly. "Why would you ask me to do that?"

They had shared magic just once before, five years ago at Hogwarts. Dumbledore and Lupin had been impressed with the levels of power they were displaying and had wondered if they could boost each other's power levels by combining their magic.

"Certain wizards have the ability," Dumbledore had said. "And it stands to reason that you and Miss Weasley would be a good match magically. You complement each other on an elemental level."

"What would we have to do?" Ginny had asked curiously.

"Most of the work would belong with Harry actually," Lupin answered, indicating the wizard who was standing in the corner with a skeptical look on his face. "He's the one who can open connections to magic and he would have to reach out for your power. If you concentrate, Ginny, you'll be able to feel his magic reaching for you and you can direct your own to rise up and meet him. If you can both merge the magical force inside each of you, then you could try casting a few spells to see how powerful the combined power is."

Deciding they had nothing to lose they had begun practicing together. It was easy for Harry to forge a connection to Ginny's magic, he had been doing it for awhile, but Ginny had to learn to connect her own to his. After several days of constant practice, they were able to complete the merging.

It had been the most erotic experience of Harry's life.

It was like swimming in a pool of Ginny. Her laughter, her goodness, her spirit, her love of life, her love for HIM…it was all there. She had been a fiery pit of passion and he had emerged from the experience shaking with arousal.

For Ginny, merging herself with Harry had been like descending into a ball of raw energy deep in the center of the earth. It was alive, it was powerful and sexual energy had crackled on her skin. When Harry had pulled back the connection she swayed on her feet, catching herself on the nearby desk, and gasped for air as her knees had buckled. She felt like she had just had a gigantic orgasm and the ache for him had shocked even her.

Dumbledore had taken one look at the two gasping for air with sweaty faces and said, "Er…maybe not such a good idea then."

Ginny stood in front of Harry knowing what she was asking of him. The memory of the last time they had shared magic had gotten her through many lonely nights in Paris and she was sure this experience would be a bit embarrassing for her. But he was the only one who could understand what was inside of her, the only one who could actually see it.

"Harry," she pleaded, "I just want someone…you…to know what this power is like inside of me. I need to share it with someone, just to have one person that understands what I live with everyday. We are the only people who can understand that about each other and it's changed since…well, since the last time."

She waited breathlessly for him to answer. She was more than a little nervous about this. She hadn't been able to look him in the eye for a week after the experience five years ago–who could've, knowing THAT was swirling around inside of him? They had just started talking again and she didn't want things awkward between them so soon. But still…

Harry was definitely sure this wasn't a good idea. After he had seen what was swimming inside of her last time, he had barely been able to stop himself from ravaging her in front of Lupin and Dumbledore. Now they were here in the dark, all alone with no teachers around to stop them if things got out of control. And he did not have enough confidence in his self-control to NOT touch her.

"Ginny," he said wearily, "I'm not sure that is a good idea. Of course I would love to see what is inside of you but last time…things…got a little uncomfortable for me."

"I know Harry," Ginny blushed, "They were uncomfortable for me too. But I really want to try; I really want to share this with you. We're adults now, surely we can control ourselves."

Harry couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his face. "Are you sure you're going to be able to keep your hands off me if we do this Weasley? I know what randy buggers you Weasleys are."

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed. "ME? You're the one going out with a different witch every night. I'm not sure you'll be able to control yourself around me! I am a goddess after all."

"Yes you are," Harry agreed promptly. "But if this is going to make things awkward between us I want no part of it."

"It won't," she replied stubbornly. "We won't let it."

Harry coughed. "What if, erm…things get out of hand? You know what it was like last time. We might not be able to stop ourselves."

"Last time surprised us," Ginny argued. "We weren't prepared for it. This time we'll know what to expect. And Harry, we're friends, what's a little sexual tension between friends," she finished cheekily.

"Witch," he shot at her. "Fine, I'll do it but I make no apologies for any future behavior."

He faced her and took her hand in his. Closing their eyes, they concentrated on the power within each other. Ginny was better at this, Harry realized, and he found himself rushing into her much faster than last time.

Oh…gods…that was…ecstasy. Ginny was right, she WAS different. Much different. The things he had felt in her last time were still there but the overall well of power had grown. The fiery pool he had swum in before had matured and it reached for him without hesitation.

Ginny was no longer sure this was a good idea. It felt too good. Being inside of Harry was incredible. The energy was there but the power had increased and she was sure it would overwhelm her at any moment. They were able to hold the connection longer this time and she could feel Harry's energy moving through her, inside of her and around her. It was…sex.

Realizing they had both gotten a bit better than this, Harry was able to tamp down the desire rising inside of him long enough to open his eyes.

"Ginny," he whispered, "open your eyes."

Ginny obeyed and gasped. Their auras were showing. The deep emerald green of Harry's and the bright red of hers were swirling together in a mixture of colors that was spell binding.

"Harry," Ginny breathed. Her voice had an odd echoing quality to it. "It looks as if we could touch it."

They both reached out their free hand and touched the combined auras.

"Oh gods," Harry ground out as a sizzle went up his arm. "That feels…"

"Wonderful," Ginny finished as she looked at him, her eyes shining in the brightness of their auras.

Harry took one look at her standing there with the colors of their auras swirling around them and felt the beauty of the magic inside of her. His control snapped.

Letting go of her hand, he grabbed her by the arms and crushed her to him, hesitating just a moment before dipping his head down to capture her lips. Fastening his mouth onto hers, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Ginny's arms slid automatically around his waist and she titled her head, kissing him back with a moan. His tongue parted her lips and swept inside her mouth.

At the first taste of her, Harry groaned and slid his hands down to her hips, pressing his arousal against her. Ginny instinctively curled her hips into him and met his tongue with her own. Her hands fisted on the back of his shirt trying to bring him closer and with a muttered oath, Harry tore himself from her mouth and trailed wet kisses across her jaw and down the side of her neck where he nibbled and sucked on her flesh.

"Harry...gods…Harry," Ginny gasped and she clutched at him tighter. She could feel the magic inside of them swirling faster--an explosion was possible at any moment. Harry kissed and nibbled his way back up to her mouth and with a moan slanted his mouth over hers again. Without waiting for an invitation she slid her tongue into his mouth and arched into him. He was kissing her so hard she was practically bent backwards with the force of it. One hand moved up to fist in her hair and held her head still while he plundered her mouth.

Harry felt her moving inside of him, their magic combining and twisting together and without warning, another column of fire shot into the air with them at its center. The ground started shaking and rolling under their feet and it caused them both to lose their balance, breaking their kiss as they were forced to scramble for footing. It was enough of a distraction to break their magical connection; the earth stilled abruptly and the fire column disappeared.

Ginny and Harry sat panting on the ground staring wide-eyed at each other. Ginny's hair had come loose from her ponytail and was falling down around her shoulders. Harry's shirt was twisted and scrunched from where Ginny had fisted it. Their lips were swollen and bruised from the kiss.

Ginny spoke first, still gasping for air. "I'm sorry Harry, I had no idea it would get out of hand like that. It's all my fault. You were right, we never should have tried that. Merlin, I'm so sorry…" she babbled, smoothing down her hair and trying not to look at him.

Harry gulped down huge breaths of air and got to his feet. He reached down to help Ginny up and they stood, holding onto to one another's arms at the elbows.

"S'alright Gin," he said, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm sorry I let it get that far."

"No Harry, it was completely my fault. You didn't want to, I made you do it," she insisted.

"Well, you made your point in any case. The power is significantly different." Both of them were trying to avoid mentioning the kiss.

"Really? What felt different?"

"Well there's more of it for one thing," he said. "And it seems, I don't know…matured, I guess. Like it's reached a new level."

"Yours is different too," she told him. 

"Really?" he asked with surprise. He had always assumed the power surge he'd experienced at 16 would be it.

"Definitely. It's bigger and it feels more…energetic, like its moving faster or something."

They were silent for a moment and then Harry spoke. "I really am sorry I let it get that far. I just lost control of myself for a minute."

"Me too, believe me, I was close to…something myself."

"Well what's a little sexual tension between two friends anyway?" he said lightly, throwing her earlier words back at her.

She grinned at him. "That was some first kiss Potter. I mean, the earth actually moved. I bet you do that with all the girls."

He gripped her elbows tighter and stared into her eyes.

"No," he said honestly. "That only happens with you."

Ginny cleared her throat trying to ignore the warm feeling his words sparked inside of her and said, "Well, can we just chalk that up to experience then?"

He searched her face intently. "If that's what you want." He was certain that he did not want to forget it, in fact, he was pretty sure he still needed a cold shower.

Ginny couldn't look at him anymore. Not understanding the look in his eyes was disconcerting to say the least and she stepped back from him, smoothing down the front of her jumper. "Thank you for doing that anyway. It really means a lot to me that you still trust me enough to share with me."

"I never stopped trusting you Nix," he said gently. "You've always been my friend."

"Shall we walk back then? It's getting kind of late and I'm sure everyone has already gone home."

"Well, if they haven't they certainly are going to be wondering what we're doing out here," he said wryly.

They were silent as they made their way back to the house. Everyone had indeed gone home. The fire they had been sitting around earlier had been put out and house was dark except for the porch light. He walked her to the porch and watched as she walked up the steps to the door.

"Ginny," he asked softly, "did you ever tell anyone about the last time we did that?"

"No," she answered, turning to face him. "It seemed too…private."

"Yeah," he agreed, "me neither. No telling what Ron would have done if he knew I was swimming around inside of your magic like that. Probably would have taken it completely the wrong way."

"Yeah," she chuckled lightly. "Listen Harry, what happened tonight…"

"There's no need to explain Ginny," he said, cutting her off. "Like you said, we'll call it experience. I hope I haven't made things difficult for you."

"No," Ginny responded, shaking her head. "I'm sorry if I made things difficult for YOU."

"There you go again, always putting me first," he said, giving her a lopsided grin. You've really got to quit doing that."

"Old habits die hard."

"When will we see each other again?"

"I don't know, maybe we could get together for lunch next week."

"Alright," he smiled sadly. "I'll floo you. Let me know if you need anything yeah?"

"Sure Harry," she said and reached out to squeeze his hand goodbye before turning towards the door.

"Ginny," he called out, stopping her. She looked back at him quizzically. "It was really beautiful. I mean it."

"It was, wasn't it," she whispered in agreement. "More than I ever expected."

"You," he swallowed thickly. "What's inside of you–it's glorious…and amazing. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Thank YOU Harry," she whispered again and slipped inside the door, turning off the porch light as she went.

Harry stood in the dark yard for a few minutes. Then, making a quick decision and ignoring the time of night, he apparated straight to Remus' house


	6. Chapter 6 Truths and Consequences

Remus Lupin rolled over in his sleep and unconsciously snaked an arm around his wife's waist. No matter which position he and Tonks fell asleep in, they always seemed to wake up like that, spooning with her back to his front. Tonks thought it was sweet but Remus shook his head at the fact that, despite having slept by himself for 40 years, he suddenly couldn't sleep through the night without reaching out for his wife.

This particular night Remus and Tonks had returned home late from Ginny's welcome back party at the Weasleys and gone straight to bed, both falling asleep as soon as their heads touched the pillows. Remus had stayed at the Weasley's as long as possible, hoping to have a chance to chat with Harry before he left. But when the clock had struck 11 p.m. and Ginny and Harry still hadn't returned from their walk, Remus had nudged Tonks, who had been asleep on his shoulder, and the two apparated home.

So it wasn't a surprise they didn't immediately spring out of bed when the heavy pounding began downstairs at their front door. Prior to the defeat of Voldemort, both had been accustomed to jumping out of bed at a moment's notice but since Harry had killed Tom Riddle, the entire wizarding world slept more soundly.

The knocking persisted and Tonks finally jerked awake, sitting up blearily, her hand reaching out to smack Remus' shoulder.

"Remus. Remus, wake up. Remus! Wake up you wolf," she said, her voice breaking into a yawn. 

"Not now Tonks, I'm too tired," he mumbled and rolled over in the bed, pulling the blanket over his head.

"Not that you goat, there's someone at the door."

"What?" Remus asked, sitting up suddenly and rubbing his eyes. "Who would be at the door this time of night? It's…" and he reached over to look at the clock on the nightstand, "1 a.m."

"I don't know who it is, I just know they'd better have a damn good reason for this," she replied, leaning over to switch on the light. Both shut their eyes at the sudden brightness.

"That's it…death had better be involved. It must be someone for you, no one I know is conscious at this time of night."

"C'mon, we'd better go see who it is," Remus groaned, throwing back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He slipped his feet into some waiting slippers and grabbed a robe from the foot of the bed, tying the sash loosely.

"Wait Remus!" Tonks called. "What if it's someone come to hurt us?"

"Tonks, do you really think someone who wants to murder us in our beds in the dead of night is going to knock on our door beforehand?"

"You never know," she insisted. "A girl I went to school with told me this story one…"

"Now is not the time Dora," Remus interrupted. "Let's just go answer the door."

Whoever it was at the door was banging with increased agitation and calling out Remus' name.

"That sounds like Harry," Remus said, grabbing his wand from the bedside table and hurrying out the room with Tonks on his heels. "Wonder what he wants?"

"Wait," Tonks hissed, "what if it isn't really Harry? Let me get a weapon first." She ran into the living room, grabbed a fire poker from the fireplace and returned to the front hallway where she stood poised with the fire poker over her shoulder, looking at Remus' expectantly.

"Go on then, open the door. If it's not Harry, I'll hit 'em with this."

"Tonks," Remus said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you a witch or not? Put down the poker and grab your wand. You're a bloody auror for crying out loud."

"Oh! Right. Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Forgot. It's a bit late you know."

"Yes I had noticed," Remus said wryly and turned around to unlock the deadbolt. He peered out the door. It was indeed Harry, looking desperate.

"Harry?" Remus asked, throwing open the door to let him in. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Whose dead?" Tonks asked bluntly.

"Dead?" Harry looked lost for a moment and then recognition dawned. "OH! Sorry, no one dead. I just really need to talk to you Remus," he said, turning pleading eyes on his father's old friend. "Please Moony, I'm sorry it's so late but I just couldn't stand to wait until morning."

"Sure Harry, whatever you need," Remus said noting the look in Harry's eyes. He looked…yes, desperate was the word, Remus decided. "Go on through to the study. We'll light a fire and have a bit of tea."

"Thanks Moony," the young man said gratefully and walked past the couple into a room just beyond.

Remus waited until Harry was out of earshot before saying to Tonks, "Best go back to bed Dora. I don't know what's going on but it doesn't seem to be a matter of life and death. I'll talk to him and then send him home."

"Fine," Tonks grumbled, turning back towards the stairs. "But be sure to lecture him on appropriate visiting hours or I really am going to hit him with this poker."

"I think he's pretty upset about something, did you see the look in his eyes?"

"Yeah," Tonks agreed and added in a low voice. "I expect it's something about Ginny."

"Ginny? Hmm…you may be right," Remus said thoughtfully.

"'Course I'm right," she said shortly, beginning to ascend the steps. "I'm always right. Didn't you see the way he was looking at her tonight? It was intense. I thought his eyes were going to burst into flames right in his face."

Remus smiled at her fondly. His wife always did have a flair for the dramatic. And she had always liked the idea of Harry and Ginny together. Tonks was a clumsy romantic by night and a dark wizard catcher by day. "Go back to sleep love," Remus said, reaching up to peck her on the lips. "I'll be up when we've finished."

Muttering under her breath about blind adopted godsons, Tonks clunked up the stairs towards bed. Remus walked into his study to find his best friend's son pacing the floor, mumbling to himself.

"Harry," he said carefully, his eyes following his progress. "What is it? What's going on?"

Harry stopped his pacing and turned to look at Moody.

"It's Ginny," he managed. "She's back."

"Yes I had gathered that when I went to a 'Welcome Home Ginny' party tonight at her parent's house. Didn't I see you there?" Remus couldn't keep the sarcastic tone out of his voice. Really, what was wrong with the boy? Harry wasn't usually this…stupid.

He walked over to the fireplace and waved his wand. A crackling fire sprang up and Remus' sat down in one of the two leather armchairs facing the fireplace.

"Sit down Harry," he said crossly. "And tell me why you've woken me up in the dead of the night to tell me something I already knew."

Harry collapsed in the chair and sprawled out, staring at the fire. "I've done something monumentally stupid."

"Yes, well, Tonks will get over it and I'm sure she'll put the poker down soon…you know once she falls back asleep."

Harry looked at him sourly. "Fine, I get it, I woke you guys up. I'm really sorry though. It's just that I'm so confused and I didn't know where else to go." 

Remus immediately felt guilty for his cheek. Harry didn't have any real family and his supply of father figures had been eliminated by Voldemort. Remus was the only one left that Harry felt like he could go to for advice. After Sirius' death, the two of them had gotten closer and Harry had unofficially adopted Remus as his godfather.

"Sorry Harry. I'll be serious. Now why don't you tell me what's going on?"

Harry leaned forward, propping his forearms on his knees and rubbing his palms together. He was still for a moment and then said quietly, "I shared magic with her."

Remus froze.

"Why," he cleared his throat, "why would you do that?"

"Because she asked me to."

Remus studied Harry's profile. "Why did you agree to it?"

In a low voice, Harry responded, "You know why."

Ah. There it was. Remus was, as far as he knew, one of only two people who knew how Harry had really felt about Ginny. He had confessed to him one night shortly after Ginny had left for Paris, when Remus had expressed concern about Harry's disappearance from the Burrow. Remus had thought him monumentally stupid for not telling her and told Harry so at the time. It had been one of their more…lively discussions.

"I see," Remus replied, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap. "So you're still in love with her."

It was a statement not a question. Remus wasn't stupid. He had seen the expression on Harry's face tonight right before he had raced after Ginny. And he had seen a similar expression on his face nearly five years ago when Voldemort had turned his wand on Ginny, sneering at her while holding the cruciatus curse on her. Harry's face had frozen as he saw Ginny struggling not to cry out, defiant until the end to not let Tom Riddle get the best of her again.

The thunderous face he had then turned towards Voldemort at that point would have made a lesser wizard crumple but Voldemort had pushed his luck stupidly and Harry had erupted in fury. He had thrown aside his wand and rushed at the evil wizard tackling him to the ground in a muggle move the Dark Lord could never have anticipated. The spell that had killed Voldemort had been cast wandlessly and Remus contended to this day that it had been Harry's love for Ginny that had given him the power to do so.

Harry's head dropped into his hands. "Of course I am. I never stopped. Not really. And when she asked me to merge with her I would have sooner denied a dying man his last wish."

"But you've dated all those other women…" Remus trailed off questioningly.

"Attempts to forget her Moony," Harry said shortly, "But I suspect you already knew that."

Yeah he had. Truthfully Remus had been suspected something like this would happen when he had heard Ginny was returning to England. But to share magic again? That was something he could not have foreseen. The last time the two had merged their power had been shocking to say the least and Remus had thought them too embarrassed by their mutual reactions to make another attempt. The power surrounding them that night had been incredible and both Remus and Dumbledore had agreed privately that if they could learn to control the power, the two teenagers would probably be unstoppable. But the sexual energy they had created…well, it had taken on an almost physical presence in the room. And Remus wasn't ever sure they could have gotten past that to move onto casting spells.

"Do you think she is still in love with you?"

"No. She said she wasn't, and I believe her. She's over me."

"So why would she ask you for such a thing? Last time you guys wouldn't look at each other for a week afterwards."

"I know," Harry said. "But the power inside of her…it's changed and she said she just needed one person to understand what was inside of her. I'm the only one who can do it, you know that Remus. It was always something we shared, something just between the two of us. No one else could possibly have understood."

"And her magic? Was it different?" Remus was genuinely curious. The youngest Weasley had always been powerful…and full of surprises.

Harry lifted his head off of his hands to look at him. "Remus," he gulped, "it was incredible…it wasn't anything I have ever felt before." He closed his eyes as if he was still savoring the feeling. "You can't even imagine what is inside of her now. Five years ago, it was unbelievable but what I felt tonight…Merlin, I don't even know how to describe it to you."

"That's quite all right Harry," Remus said wryly. "I saw what happened the last time you two did such a thing–that was enough of a mental picture to last me a lifetime."

Harry blushed and looked away. "Yeah, well…I almost wish you had been there this time too. I uh…sort of lost control of myself."

Uh-oh. Remus suddenly found himself getting a massive headache. Shutting his eyes and rubbing his temples with his fingers, he said, "Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

"But that's what I'm telling you Remus," Harry exploded, springing up to resume his pacing. "I did something incredibly stupid. But gods Moony, you can't imagine what it felt like; being inside of her like that…I just couldn't stop myself and I…I kissed her."

He shut his eyes waiting for Remus to throw a shoe or something at him for being so daft.

But no shoe came. Harry opened one eye to find Remus still seated in the chair, his eyes twinkling up at Harry.

"And did she kiss you back?"

"That's not the point Remus! Of course she kissed me back! It was like swimming in a pool of liquid sex! It's lucky we didn't do anything else!"

"So what happened when you kissed her?" Remus asked, his eyes still twinkling.

"Columns of fire to the sky and earthquakes."

Remus stopped his twinkling, realizing Harry wasn't joking. He stared at him wide-eyed. "You're serious? Columns of fire?"

"And earthquakes," Harry said dully. "That was my contribution. The fire came from Ginny."

"So, let me get this straight. The woman you've denied being in love with for the past six years because of some ridiculous notion that you are supposed to protect everyone around you…"

"Oi!" Harry interjected.

"…runs off to Paris because she thinks you don't love her and today, after a four-year absence, she returns home claiming she doesn't love you anymore but immediately asks you to share magic with her–something that is known to send you both into a frenzy of sexual arousal–and you agree because, let's face it you'd do anything for her, only this time you can't stop yourself and you kiss her and this epic kiss makes the earth SHAKE?"

"And a column of fire shot up to the sky," Harry pointed out. "But who's keeping track."

"And this all happened just today? Are you sure time hasn't slowed down and it's next Tuesday?"

"Just shut it Remus and tell me what the bloody hell I am supposed to do now?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Shag her. A lot. I'm not picky about where."

Remus sighed, leaning his head on the back of the armchair. "Sit down Harry, you're making me nervous."

He was silent for a moment while Harry took his seat again. "What did Ginny say about this? Did you talk about what happened afterwards?"

Harry turned tortured eyes on him. "Well that's the thing. We talked about it beforehand and we both agreed before the merge that if anything happened while we were, you know, combined, we wouldn't make a big deal out of it."

"So afterwards….?"

"She said we should chalk it up as a lesson learned. She didn't seem too chuffed about it."

Okay now they were getting somewhere, Remus thought. "So the problem is that you kissed her and she thinks it was just because combining magic with each other causes you both to act out of control but you really kissed her because you're still in love with her and couldn't stop yourself."

"That's about it," Harry confirmed. "And I still haven't told her the truth about my feelings for her which is sort of eating me up inside. I wanted to wait until she was home for a few weeks but I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I mean, she said she wasn't in love with me anymore. What have I got left to lose?"

"Friendship," Remus offered. "She's going to be really angry with you. She might never speak to you again."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That's pretty certain. But I'm not sure I can be just her friend at this point anyway. I'm crazy about the woman. And I owe her an explanation."

"Harry you really are a pillock," Remus said exasperatingly. "You expected Ginny to be just your friend for years KNOWING how she felt about you and now that she says she over you, you decide you're too in love with her to be just her friend."

Harry was silent for a minute. "She's going to murder me isn't she," he said dully.

"Yes she is," Remus said sharply, "and I don't blame her for a minute. If she doesn't manage to finish you off the Weasley brothers will once they find out about it."

"Ron already knows," Harry informed him.

"Yes and it's been an awkward situation for him. He's a good friend. You're lucky he hasn't killed you already."

They both fell quiet, staring into the fire. Remus couldn't help being irritated with Harry. It was bizarre, he thought, that someone who had been prepared to sacrifice himself to save the world from Voldemort, someone who had nearly gotten himself killed to protect his friends, could be so selfish about something like this. Ginny had loved Harry for years. She had stood by him through everything, only wanting her love to be returned in exchange. And in some bizarre rationalization, Harry had convinced himself that if he loved her back it would paint a big red target on her back.

Well, Remus thought fairly, it certainly would have but Ginny could take care of herself.

It wasn't that he didn't understand Harry's need to protect those he loved, Remus decided. Harry hadn't received an ounce of love growing up with the Dursleys and so he had a tendency to hold onto to those who loved him with both hands. But this thing with Ginny--it was beyond all reason.

"Harry," Remus said firmly, uncrossing his legs and sitting up straight. "You've got to make a decision here. Either forget about your feelings and be her friend or be honest with her and take what comes. Those are the only two choices. And you've treated her abominably enough that you owe it to her to make the best decision you can for her instead of yourself. What would Ginny want you to do?"

"I think she would want to know," Harry answered softly, staring into the fire. "I think she would want me to be honest with her. I think she would want to know that the sparks between us weren't just her imagination. I know that's always bothered her."

They were both silent again. Remus was waiting for Harry to say something. The next step was really up to him. He had said all he had to say on this subject.

"Remus," Harry said firmly, standing up. "I'm going to tell her. I can't let her live the rest of her life without knowing the truth about me. If we're going to salvage any bit of our friendship I need to be honest with her."

"And if it drives her away?"

"That's a chance I'm going to have to take. I think she'll forgive me eventually. But I love her, more than anything, and we're friends besides. I owe her this." He looked at his godfather. "Do you think that is the right decision?"

"It's not for me to say Harry," Remus responded carefully. "But I've always held that honesty is the best policy. Especially when it comes to friends."

"But Harry," he continued, now smirking, "wait until tomorrow yeah? It's two o'clock in the morning."

"Right," Harry said sheepishly. "Thanks Moony. It really helped to talk this out. I'm sorry I woke you guys up. Tell Tonks will you?"

"Sure Harry," Remus said, clapping him on the back as he walked him to the door. "I'm sure she'll understand. She suspected it was something like this anyway."

"She did?" Harry asked surprised. "How did she know that?"

"Harry," Remus said, opening the door, "anyone who didn't see the looks you were giving Ginny tonight must've been blind. The whole group could see you pining."

Harry groaned and stepped out onto the front walk. "I really am a dead man."

"Yes I think you are!" Remus said cheerily. "Now go home and put your affairs in order. Ginny's most likely to kill you in the morning."

"Thanks a lot Remus, you really know how to make a bloke feel better."

"Yes, your father thought so as well. He was particularly fond of the way I comforted him on the morning of his wedding."

"I'm sure," Harry said dryly. He stopped smiling and looked back at Remus intently. "Thanks Moony, I mean it."

"No problem pup. Now get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Harry apparated away and Remus locked the door behind him. He shut off the lights downstairs and walked up the stairs with every intention of sliding quietly in bed and spooning his wife.

Ginny Weasley trudged up the stairs in her parent's house towards her bedroom. The weather outside seemed to reflect her mood–cold, dreary and raining. She hadn't fallen asleep last night until 3 a.m. She had fully intended to have a lie-in but her mother, in a state of perpetual joy over her daughter's return, had woken her up at 9 a.m. for breakfast.

Grumbling about morning people, Ginny had made her way downstairs to join her parent's for breakfast only to find Fred and George and their combined three children, had decided to make an early morning appearance at the Burrow. Angelina and Alicia had apparently thrown their husbands out of their homes this morning claiming today was "Chaser's Day."

"It means they get together with Katie Bell and reminisce about their glory days at Hogwarts, chasing for the Gryffindor team," George had said, simultaneously shoving a bit of pancake into his mouth and wiping syrup off of the face of his youngest son Blake. Ginny had been impressed with his dexterity. 

"It's also an excuse to shove the kids off on us for the day," Fred added. "But we don't mind because they usually get a bit tipsy and that, my dearest sister, has benefits better left unsaid at this table."

Ginny had looked at him disgusted and turned back to her breakfast.

Now, she gathered her things for her shower and walked into the bathroom across the hall from her bedroom. She showered, shaved her legs and leaving the bathroom with her hair wet, walked back into her bedroom and shut the door.

Making her way around the boxes and trunks till cluttering her room, she opened the closet door to pick out some clothes. Gray, she decided, definitely gray. Yesterday had not ended well and she felt like wallowing. Choosing a soft gray turtleneck and gray pinstriped pants that hung low on her hips, Ginny got dressed quickly and sat down at her vanity. She stared at herself in the mirror. One hand went involuntarily to her lips.

She could still feel him.

Ginny groaned and put her head down on her arms crossed over the vanity table. She really didn't need this right now. She had a life to plan, a job to find, a place to live…she did not need to be sitting in the Burrow fantasizing about what would have happened between her and bloody Harry Potter if their connection to each other hadn't broken.

She had been unable to sleep most of the night after Harry had walked her home. The feeling of being inside of him, of having him inside of her, had still sizzled underneath her skin. If she had known sharing magic would have led to that…that kiss, she certainly would never have suggested it. Ginny had never been kissed like that before. It had been…heartstopping. The way his lips had caressed hers, the way his mouth had moved over her skin and oh Merlin, his hands--they had roamed her back and waist with urgency and she had never been so inspired to let someone touch every inch of her. And he had been just as eager, she remembered, blushing at the way he had pressed his arousal into her. And at the way she had pressed right back…

She had to stop, Ginny told herself firmly. They had just gotten out of hand. Sharing magic was apparently a very sensual experience and nobody could blame them for losing control for a moment.

When they had first tried it five years ago, when Ginny had been convinced she and Harry were destined to be together, she had told herself their reactions had been because of a deep-seeded love between them. But now she wasn't so sure. They had done it twice and Harry wasn't in love with her, nor was she in love with him but the results had been the same. Perhaps because magic was such an intimate part of one's self, any two people who chose to share it felt attraction.

But she couldn't imagine feeling something like that with, say Hermione, or one of her brothers.

Ginny sighed and ran a hand over hair. It dried instantly and she applied a bit of makeup, trying to cheer herself up with a pretty face. She wasn't sure why she was so depressed.

Maybe, a traitorous voice whispered inside of her, maybe it's because you have been waiting ten years for Harry Potter to kiss you and when he finally does, it's just because of some massive love spell. It wasn't because he actually wanted to kiss you.

Ginny sighed again and closed her eyes. Who was she kidding? She was still attracted to the git, anyone with eyes could see that. She didn't think she was in love with him but damn, she was only human and Harry Potter was a god.

Opening her eyes, Ginny squared her shoulders and stood up, intending to make sense of the mess in her room. She couldn't keep living like this. Maybe she could shrink some of the boxes and trunks and store them under the bed. But just as she took out her wand–a wand being better for focused magic like this–someone knocked on her door.

"Just a minute," she called. And she levitated a few boxes out of the way so whoever it was would have a clear path into the room.

She opened the door and was shocked to see Harry.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, a grin spreading over her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in Ginny?" Harry said, a look of determination on his face. He was dripping wet and his dark hair was plastered onto his forehead. He must have walked up in the rain.

"Sure," Ginny said puzzled. "Why didn't you just apparate directly onto the front porch? You're soaked."

"Yeah," Harry said looking down at his wet clothes sheepishly. "I took a walk. Needed to do some thinking. Rain's good for that."

"Well come on in, I'll dry you off."

Harry stepped into the room and Ginny led him around the maze of boxes to the center of her bedroom.

"Here, let me," she said, and she reached up to run her hands through his hair. Each stroke dried his hair and Harry closed his eyes.

"That feels so good," he murmured.

"I'm glad," Ginny said thickly. She would NOT think about how good his hair felt running through her fingers. She took her hands away from his hair and waved them over his chest, back and torso, drying his clothes as she went. She knelt down to get his legs and shoes and stood back up to find him staring at her with a weird look in his eyes.

"Thanks," he said huskily. "Wow, even my shoes are dry," he smiled at her, wiggling his feet.

"It's handy being friends with a fire goddess isn't it?" she said casually, trying to ignore a familiar swooping motion in her stomach when he spoke.

"Harry," she said, shaking her head to clear it, "what's going on? I thought we agreed on lunch next week."

Another determined look came over his face. "That's not why I'm here," he said firmly. "I have to talk to you about something. Something that you're not going to like. I've been putting this off for years and now that you're back it's really important that I tell you, except…" his voice trailed off.

"Except what?"

"Except that you're really going to hate me for this," he said softly, not looking at her. "I'm worried that you'll never speak to me again and you can see why I'd be so reluctant to have such a conversation. Especially considering we agreed not 10 hours ago that we would rebuild our friendship."

"Harry, you're scaring me now. What could be so awful that you think I'll abandon you so quickly? Just say it. Whatever it is, we can work it out." Ginny was nervous, she had no idea what was going on but if the look on Harry's face was any indication, she was positive it was going to be bad.

Harry walked over to face the window. It was ironic, he thought, that they would have this conversation in her bedroom, where a similar conversation had taken place four years ago. Only the roles were reversed.

Deciding to get this over with, he turned back to her.

"You might want to sit down. And I must ask that you not interrupt me. This is going to be hard enough without interruptions."

Ginny sank slowly down onto the bed. "Okay, I'm sitting. What is it? You're really making me nervous."

Harry turned back to face the window. It might be easier to say if he didn't have to face her for this.

"I want to tell you a story," he began softly, "of a little boy who grew up not really knowing who he was or where he came from. He had been told horrible stories about his parents and although he lived with some relatives, they didn't really seem to like him and took every opportunity they could find to make him feel that he was a worthless freak. The thing was he didn't really know any better. He didn't realize there were other types of families out there who loved their children and sacrificed for them. And although he got an occasional glimpse of these people in the park and grocery stores, he decided that he must not have been worthy of these things. He must really be a freak because otherwise his relatives wouldn't treat him so differently from his cousin."

Ginny was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. So far, this story was sounding eerily familiar.

"One day a strange sort of man came to find this little boy and took him away to a magical place full of creatures and wizards and castles. It was like a dream. And he told the boy that he was magical too and that his parents had been wizards and they had really loved him, so much that they had died to protect him. The boy was shocked. He had no memory of his parents and to be told they were good people who loved him, well the thought gave him hope. Except no matter how much he saw pictures of them and heard stories about them, he could not remember what it felt like to be loved by them."

"Anyway," Harry said, turning from the window and walking over to sit down on the bed next to Ginny.

She grasped his hand and squeezed it and he let her, knowing she might be using it to punch him later. Still not looking at her, he continued the story.

"The boy went away to a special school where there were all sorts of people just like him and nobody called him a freak. In fact, he was quite famous with these people. Apparently he had defeated a bad wizard when he was very young and people in this world were very grateful."

Harry sat back against the headboard of the bed and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"And he made friends, really good friends, who snuck around the school with him and had all sorts of adventures. And when the bad wizard showed back up again, they defended him and helped him escape. This was a big surprise to him, because he had never had anybody who stood up for him, let alone friends who were willing to let themselves get hurt so he would be safe. He didn't feel worthy of it but when he tried to protest, they told him he was too important and that they did it because they loved him."

"The feelings this caused inside of him were confusing because he wasn't really sure what love was. No one had ever said they loved him before and he didn't recognize what it felt like. He knew he really appreciated them though and was determined to do anything to protect them from this bad wizard that seemed intent on killing him. He couldn't stand to lose anybody who said they loved him. What if they were the only ones and once they were gone, he would go back to being ignored?"

Harry stopped his story and swallowed. Ginny was sitting on the side of the bed, leaning forward on her hands, looking down at the floor in front of her. He knew she knew he was talking about himself and the story probably made her sad.

"One day, he met this girl who had always heard the story of how he defeated the evil wizard when he was just a baby. She was really shy around him. This girl went to his school and although he knew she had a crush on him, he sort of ignored her because it was kind of embarrassing to be liked for something you didn't even remember doing."

"But then another student at the school said something really nasty to the boy and without thinking about herself, this girl stood in front of him and defended him. He was surprised because they hadn't really known each other very well but he was grateful to her. It took a little bit longer but the two finally became friends, really good friends and the girl continued to stand up for him whenever he needed her. Except that she still had a crush on him. And as they got older, he realized she truly loved him, even though she had never said so."

"It was a different kind of love; he could see it when he looked in her eyes. He could see that she was _in love_ with him and would do anything for him. He didn't understand why, he wasn't anything special. He understood a little bit more about life by then and she showed her love for him every day by making him laugh, or comforting him when he was upset, or not being afraid to tell him when he was acting like a big prat, or fighting evil wizards for him…" his voice trailed off, as Ginny stood up and walked over the window, staring out over the garden.

"And the girl became very precious to the boy. She was smart and kind and beautiful and caring and loyal and before he knew it," Harry gulped, "he was in love with her too." 

There was a silence and he waited for Ginny to erupt. She stiffened but when she stayed, staring stonily out of the window, he continued.

"He had never been in love before and it really scared him because other people he had loved had been killed by the evil wizard. He was afraid that if the bad guy realized how much he loved and cared for this girl, the wizard would hunt her down and kill her. And he loved her too much to let that happen. He loved her so much," Harry's voice broke and he tried to swallow the lump that had just appeared in his throat.

"She was everything to him," he whispered, "and although he knew she loved him back, he decided not to tell her how he felt because, he reasoned, that if no one knew, the evil wizard would never find out."

"It was more difficult then he thought it would be, to not tell her he loved her, I mean. They saw each other everyday and she was so beautiful and he was so jealous of the other boys who asked her out on dates."

"Eventually," Harry said, stretching his legs out on the bed. "The boy defeated the evil wizard once and for all and he was really happy because he thought he could finally tell the girl how he felt about her. And just as he was about to do so, he got a letter from another bad wizard he had gone to school with who told him that he was going to kill the girl because he knew the boy was in love with her and he hated him so much. So the boy decided that he still had to protect her and he didn't tell her how he felt."

"Only," he said, already emotionally exhausted from this conversation, "it turned out to be the wrong thing to do because eventually the girl stopped loving him and he had to live with knowledge that he had lost the best thing that never happened to him."

Harry stopped, finally looking over at Ginny. She was still staring out of the window and she looked downright pissed. Her face was hard and he thought he could see the golden rim around her eyes starting to widen.

"Ginny," he whispered, "look at me."

She stayed silent a moment longer and then, "Why didn't he ever go after the girl? If he loved her so much, why didn't he go after her?"

Harry gulped. He really didn't want to answer this question.

"Actually, he did. He caught the second bad wizard you see, and went to the city where she lived to finally tell her the truth. Only when he got there, he saw her on the sidewalk walking with another man and she looked so happy that he couldn't bring himself to ruin it for her. She didn't look like she was still in love with him."

The silence seemed to echo in the room. Harry held his breath, waiting for something to explode in fire.

Finally Ginny turned to face him. Her face was red and her arms crossed protectively over her chest, her fists clenched. "That's a very sad story Harry, why are you telling it to me?" 

"You know why," he whispered.

"No I don't Harry," she said in a very calm voice. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. See I don't know any wizards like that. I don't know anybody who is that much of a bastard."

"Yes, you do Ginny," Harry stood up and walked over to her. "You're looking at him. I am a bloody bastard and you have every right to be angry with me."

"Don't you tell me what I should feel," Ginny said in a low, hard voice. "You have no idea what I am feeling."

Harry opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off. "Are you telling me that you have lied to me for the past…how many years was it?"

"Six years," Harry replied in small voice. "I've been in love with you for six years. And the thing is, last night, I realized that I…that I still am."

And there it was, the biggest secret. He had no idea how she would react to that but, upon reflection, he should have seen what happened next coming a mile away.

Ginny stepped closer to him and, reaching back with her right fist, punched him square in the jaw. It was a magical punch and it knocked him flat on his back on the floor. The room swam and he almost passed out.

He looked up at her and, tenderly feeling his jaw, said, "Okay, I guess I deserved that."

"You are damn straight you deserved that," she hissed at him. "How dare you play with my feelings like this!" 

"I'm not playing with your feelings," he replied hotly, the pain in his jaw making it difficult to talk. "I'm telling you the truth!"

"Yeah right," Ginny scoffed. "You're telling me you've been in love with me for the past six years but didn't tell me because you were afraid of what…commitment?"

"I was afraid of Voldemort!" he raised his voice at her, gingerly getting to his feet.

"What about all those other girls then? The ones you dated at Hogwarts and the ones you've dated since then. If you loved me so much how could you go out with other girls," she finished triumphant.

"I dated them because I thought it would keep Voldemort from feeling how I felt about you," he said honestly. "But I never got very serious with them, never even kissed half of them and I've never slept with anyone, I never wanted to. And the girls I've dated since you left, well they were drastic attempts to forget you. Didn't really work though."

Ginny looked at him skeptically. "You're telling me that you've never slept with any of the women you dated? Any of the thousands of women who would sell their wand to jump into bed with the famous Harry Potter?"

"Well how could I?" he said, raising his voice a bit more. "After that night we shared magic? How could I ever be with anyone else knowing how it felt to be with you? Knowing the potential between us? No one could ever have compared to that and once I knew what it could be like that no one else ever even interested me enough."

Ginny waved a hand, dismissing his comment. "This is ridiculous. You cared about me, we were friends, you wouldn't have been that cruel to me."

Harry's heart sank. He would really have to face his own ugliness now.

"Yes I would Gin," he said gently. "I was that cruel to you. I was obsessed with the idea that Voldemort would hurt you and I would have done anything, I DID do anything, to protect you. I still would. I did it because I loved you so much…you can't even possibly know…"

"YES I CAN!" Ginny finally exploded at him. "I understand it all too well! I understand what it is like to love someone so much that you would DIE for them, to care so much for someone that you were only concerned with their happiness!"

"That's all I wanted for you! I wanted you to be happy!" he shouted at her. "That's why I had to protect you!"

"I would have been happy with _you_! That was the only thing I ever wanted!" she yelled back.

"You would have been dead with me," he retorted angrily. "Don't you understand? I needed you to stay alive. You gave me a reason to fight! I couldn't lose anyone else I loved. Especially you! I loved you more than anyone else!"

"What I understand Harry Potter," Ginny said steely, "is that you have spent the last six years knowing how I felt about you and lying to me about how you felt about me. You let me just walk away that day and you never said a word!"

"Malfoy was after you," he barked at her. "I couldn't let him get you. You were safer in France. I told myself that I would let you go and then once I caught Malfoy I would go to Paris and tell you the truth."

"You caught Malfoy three years ago!" she roared at him. "And you never once came to Paris!"

"Yes I did," he said heatedly. "Only I found you in the arms of some Parisian git. You looked happy finally and I didn't want to ruin that."

"OH, well thank you Harry Potter, for such selfless acts! Thank you for loving me so much that you never once told me and then decided I didn't need you after all. Yeah, that shows a real undying devotion!"

"I DID LOVE YOU!" He bellowed. "I STILL love you! Last night was the most amazing night of my life. When I kissed you, _gods_ Ginny, I didn't think anything could ever be that good."

"What do you expect me to do Harry?" she ground out. "Fall into your arms and be grateful you've finally admitted how you feel about me?"

"No," he protested. "I just wanted to tell you the truth once and for all about my feelings. I owed you an explanation. I didn't want to start our friendship with a lie."

"OUR WHOLE FRIENDSHIP HAS BEEN A LIE!" She screamed at him. "This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. What kind of person keeps this kind of secret from someone!"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"I can protect myself!" she raged. "And I could back then. You had no right to make that decision for me!"

Harry's shoulders slumped, defeated. "I know Ginny, I'm so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I know I ruined any chance we had together but I hope that eventually, you'll stop being mad at me and we can be friends again."

Ginny strode angrily over to her door and whipped it open. "Get out Potter. And don't come back."

Harry sighed, suddenly exhausted. He walked over to the door and stopped just at the threshold, turning to face her. Putting a hand to her cheek, he leaned close and whispered, "For what's worth, I always saw _you_."

And letting his fingers drag across her cheek in a final caress, he walked out the door, wincing as she slammed the door behind him.

Three days later, Ginny was trying to do anything she could think of to avoid thinking about Harry bloody Potter. She went shopping with her mum and then shopping again with Hermione and Tonks in muggle London. She scrubbed the Burrow from top to bottom and harvested the rest of the vegetables in the garden with a vengeance. She played quidditch with her brothers, babysat her nephews and when anyone mentioned Harry's name in conversation, she casually changed the subject, schooling her features into a careful mask of disinterest. No one seemed to notice because she hadn't told anybody about Harry's confession.

Harry wasn't doing much better. Tempted to go on another drinking binge, Harry spent hours walking through muggle London and playing pick-up games of Quidditch in the wizarding park outside of Hogsmeade. He efficiently dodged any of the Weasleys, preferring to lament his plight over at the Lupins where Tonks was barely speaking to him except to state that she was unequivocally on Ginny's side. Remus provided little sympathy, saying Harry had brought this on himself.

All in all, not the most comforting of godparents. 

Ginny's mother was so excited to have her daughter home she didn't recognize something was wrong with Ginny. But Arthur knew his daughter and he knew she wasn't behaving like her normal self. She had gotten in the habit of going for a walk after breakfast each morning and seizing a golden opportunity to talk to his daughter alone, he asked to accompany her one day.

They strolled silently down the lane leading towards Ottery St. Catchpole, the silence deafening. Arthur spoke first. "What's bothering you pumpkin?"

Ginny sighed. She could never keep very much from him, and she desperately wanted to discuss the situation with someone. She told him what happened with Harry as they walked, Arthur's steps getting slower and slower until finally he stopped, staring at her with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"He _what_?" her father cried.

"I know!" Ginny said, throwing her hands up in the air. "And I'm just so mad at him that I can't see straight. Every time I think about it, I feel like exploding! I just can't believe he did this to us!"

"What are you going to do?" Arthur asked curiously, resuming their walk.

"Do? I'm not going to do anything, unless it's giving him a swift kick to the bollocks! Ooops, sorry daddy." Ginny smiled sheepishly at him.

"S'alright dear. I daresay he deserves it," Arthur smiled back at her. "But Ginny, surely you can't just leave it this way. I mean, at least talk it out with him. Even if you decide you can't be in the same room with him anymore you at least need to tell him that. The boy says he's in love with you."

"He doesn't deserve anything," she said crossly. "And he's not in love with me. How could he be, after treating me like that?"

"Love makes us do crazy things sweetheart. It starts out as something beautiful but can lead to jealously, possessiveness, even hate sometimes. And Harry was young. He did what he thought was best. He's not got much to go on you know. Those muggles were abominable to him. It's amazing he turned out as nice as he did."

"Yeah," Ginny muttered. "They were pretty bad." She stopped walking and turned around back towards the Burrow.

"But Daddy, he kept it quiet all this time and let me think he didn't love me. And then finally when I get over him, he decides to tell me. That's messed up."

"Are you over him?" Arthur asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes!" she said, looking at him. "If I wasn't before, I certainly am now."

"Then what's the problem? If you don't love him then it doesn't make much of a difference now how he used to feel. At the most he deserves your anger that he lied to you."

"I suppose."

"Maybe it's time to confront him again eh? Get really angry at him and get all this off your chest."

"Maybe," Ginny said dully. But Arthur smiled, and putting his arm around his daughter, hugged her close.

She was as blind as Harry sometimes.

Harry was busy filling out some paperwork for his last consulting job with the Ministry when Dobby announced a visitor later that afternoon.

"Miss Ginny Weasley," the house-elf squeaked, and stepped back to let Ginny enter the room.

Harry stood up quickly. "Ginny!" he exclaimed.

He was more than surprised to see her and his chest felt tight at his first sight of her in days. She looked gorgeous. Did she ever not look gorgeous? She was wearing a short-sleeved dark blue cotton dress with a chunky belt cinched at the waist. The dress came down to her ankles where it swished enticingly around strappy sandals that tied up around the ankles. She had the bangles on her wrists again and her hair was pulled back from her face in a clip.

"Thanks Dobby," Ginny smiled fondly at him and the house-elf blushed before bowing out of the room.

Harry walked over to stand in front of her and shoved his hands in his pockets. She didn't look angry, he thought, but appearances could be deceiving.

"Can I offer you something? Tea?"

"No thanks Harry," she said, taking her purse off her shoulder and setting it down on the nearest table. She turned back around and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the table. "I just came here talk."

"Okay," he said nervously. "What about?"

She gave him a cold smile. "I think you know what about. I've got a few things to say and I need to get them off my chest."

"Okay," he said again. "And after you're finished with them am I still going to be in one piece?"

"Time will tell," she said mysteriously.

"Before you get started Ginny let me say once again how really sorry I am that I…"

"Stop!" she commanded. "It's my turn now."

So Harry shut up and Ginny proceeded to call him every bad name in the book before ranting and raving for the next 10 minutes about what an idiot he was and how their friendship would never be the same again and did he even realize how much she had been in love with him?

"Yes, of course I did," he had responded hotly but she only looked at him with disdain before telling him to shut it.

He was starting to get more than a little irritated with her. He hadn't done half the things she was accusing him of and when she tried to blame him for the Gryffindor Quidditch team losing the Quidditch cup their sixth year because he had been too busy trying to protect her from bludgers he decided enough was enough.

"Ginny. Sit down. And shut up," he said in a hard voice, put his hand on her shoulder and shoved her back down in the closest chair.

"Sit there and shut the bloody hell up. I'm going to talk and you are GOING to listen." 

Ginny made a tactical decision and, deciding to remain silent for now, watched him with a furious expression on her face. He hadn't gotten angry with her very often but when he did, it had always been a good idea to do what he said when he reached a certain breaking point. She was pretty sure he was at that point right now.

She ignored the part of her that was aroused at the sight of the power emanating from him. He was never sexier than when he was angry. The energy originating from him when he was worked up had always done something to the fire inside of her and now she desperately tried to tamp down the familiar feeling swelling up inside of her.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me?" Harry spat finally, stopping his pacing long enough to glare at her. "Knowing how I felt about you, watching other guys touch you, putting their filthy hands on you, knowing that YOU loved ME and I couldn't have you?"

He walked back and forth in front of her, pacing urgently, his hands fisted in his hair as he struggled to control the emotions threatening to burst out of him.

"It was bloody impossible that's what it was!" he shouted at her. "Sometimes I would just look at you across the room and get a hard-on! Do you know what that does to a bloke?! I could barely concentrate on anything; I was so wrapped up in controlling myself around you! Do you know how many times I had to stop myself from touching you? From slamming you against the wall and forcing you to feel what you did to me without even touching me?"

"To stop myself from tasting you?" he added heatedly, halting his pacing and coming close to her.

"Those last two years at school…all I did everyday was remind myself of why I couldn't have you. One time I refused to stop myself but you never knew because you weren't even awake. We were asleep together on the couch in the common room after I had a nightmare and when I woke up my face was pressed into your neck and I couldn't stop myself from just reaching out with my tongue and touching it to your skin. Right there," he said, now in a trance, reaching out with his fingers to caress the side of her neck.

He inhaled sharply and backed away, furious with himself.

"One taste Ginny! One time, one moment of weakness but I tasted you over and over again, every night in my dreams," he glared at her as if daring her to disagree.

"I wanted to tell you EVERYDAY!" he now roared at her, making her flinch. "That night…that night we shared magic for the first time, I thought I would die, it felt so good. It was like…like…what I imagined it would be like to be inside of you, like being inside of LOVE, as if that was something I could touch! Do you have any idea of how good that felt? It was so good I was sure it was wrong! And I was sure Voldemort would be on the next portkey into Hogwarts to snatch you away. You know he had that back door into my head, I was so scared…" his voice broke and he closed his eyes. He was quiet for a second and then pulled himself together with a snap.

"But I wasn't going to lose you! I couldn't let HIM get to you. I knew, I knew that he would find out and then he would come after you and I would rather you stay alive than have you for myself! I COULDN'T LOSE YOU!" he yelled, more exasperated at her than he had ever been in his life. He was angry with himself for yelling at her but he couldn't seem to stop it.

"YOU DID LOSE ME!" she exploded at him, springing up from the chair he had pushed her into.

She was thoroughly angry with him now, all thoughts of arousal gone. How dare he say these things to her? As if she didn't know what it felt like to lust after HIM? The fireplace roared to life when she stood up, an unseen breeze lifting up the hair on her shoulders.

"YOU PRACTICALLY PACKED THE SUITCASES YOURSELF!"

"I waited for SIX years for you to say something. SIX BLOODY YEARS," she raged. "And they were the longest years of my life! Do you think it was easy for me to watch YOU with other girls? When you had that ridiculous crush on Cho Bloody Chang? Watching them throw themselves at you knowing they didn't even care about you?"

"Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can say these things now and have them mean something? I LOVED YOU!" she shouted at him, "I WOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING FOR YOU! AND YOU LIED TO ME!"

She spun around, drawing back her arm as she did so and like a baseball pitcher, threw a ball of fire at the closest piece of furniture. The comfortable looking chair burst into flame but she didn't care. She had never been so angry in her life. She just wanted to…to…blow something up. She turned back around to face Harry, her chest heaving.

Her eyes were whirlpools of gold and a golden light was illuminating her skin from within. Her long red tresses were whipping around her face in an angry wind. She looked terrifying.

The storm in Harry's own eyes was raging. The knickknacks on the tables and mantelpiece were shaking and the windows were rattling. He threw out a hand and a wave of water burst from it, drenching the chair she had set on fire. 

"You're not listening to me," he hissed at her, stalking closer. He would not be afraid of her.

"I was trying to protect you. I LOVED you and I would still do anything in my power to make sure you are never hurt."

"BOLLOCKS!" Ginny screamed. And she whipped out her hand, pointing a finger at him. A rope of fire shot out and wrapped itself around him like a lasso, pinning his arms to his body. She pulled the lasso tight with her other hand and wound in the rope, pulling her package close.

"YOU hurt me," she said in a deadly quiet voice to his shocked face. "No one has ever hurt me more than you. YOU are the only one who could EVER hurt me. I spent four years of my life telling myself the pain wasn't your fault because you couldn't help not falling in love with me. I spent hours convincing myself that I would rather be just your friend than be in a relationship with someone who loved me less than I loved them. And now, you stand there, the high and mighty NOBLE Harry Potter telling me it was all for my own good?"

With a wave of her hand, the end of the fiery rope shot into the air and wrapped itself around the chandelier, pulling him up until he was suspended, his feet kicking fruitlessly off the ground.

Ginny stalked over to her purse which had fallen off the table with Harry's earth tremors, grabbed it up and walked angrily back over to where Harry was swinging from the chandelier, struggling to get himself free from her fiery lasso.

She looked up at him. 

"Sod off Potter. You don't know anything about me if you thought that was for my own good."

She stalked out the room, shouting back at him, "And DON'T follow me."

Harry heard the front door slam and knew he had to go after her. He couldn't let it end like this. He hadn't meant for things to get so out of hand and he certainly hadn't meant to get so angry at her. It really wasn't her fault, none of it was.

He struggled with the rope, trying to work it down over his torso and legs but the lasso she had tied him with was literally a chain of fire and he couldn't touch it with his bare skin without burning himself. In fact, he was amazed it wasn't burning straight through his clothing. A detached part of him admired her spellwork.

He needed some water, he decided, and directed a stream of water out of his hand to curve up and around his body, following the path of the rope. There was a sizzle and steam poured off the rope but Harry kept up a steady stream, eventually quenching the fire in enough places that the rope crumbled around him and he toppled to the floor, landing on his stomach with an "oof."

"Dobby!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. Dobby popped in and with increasingly widening eyes took in the damage they had caused, including the still burning rope of fire hanging from the ceiling.

"No time for explanations Dobby," Harry said hastily, "Just take care of it. I've got to go!"

Without waiting for an answer, he ran out the front door hoping to get a semblance of which direction Ginny had gone. He hurried down the front steps and stopped on the sidewalk, looking for a glimpse of familiar red hair.

This was silly, she probably would have apparated somewhere. She was really angry with him, where would she go if she was really angry? The Burrow? Probably not. Bill? Charlie? Ron?

Hermione! Maybe she had gone to Ron and Hermione's house. He checked his watch; yes Hermione would be home now. Taking a chance, Harry apparated with a soft pop to Ron and Hermione's house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. In his haste, his arrival was a little off and he apparated several yards from Ron and Hermione's front door. Breaking into a sprint, he ran across the lawn and burst through the front door, startling Ron who was just walking into the front parlor.

"Where is she?" Harry demanded, now panting with exertion. "Did Ginny come here?"

Ron nodded, not trusting himself to speak when he saw the look of desperation on Harry's face. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Hermione took her out back to calm her down. What the HELL did you say to her mate?"

Without bothering to answer, Harry rushed to the back door and jerked it open, stumbling onto the back porch and tripping over his own feet in his haste to get to Ginny.

Ginny and Hermione were standing at the edge of the yard, as far away from the house as Hermione could drag her. She was pacing angrily in front her friend, ranting and raving, occasionally conjuring balls of fire in her hand and hurling them towards the ground three feet away.

Hermione looked nervous and flinched every time a fire ball landed, shooting a spray of dirt into the air.

"Harry Potter is the biggest, most selfish prat in the entire planet!" Ginny thundered. "How dare he tell ME he is love with me! NOW! Especially as I've spent the last four years, count them Hermione, FOUR BLOODY YEARS getting over that bastard!"

She stopped to throw another fireball into the ground.

"And then, THEN, he has the audacity to tell me the reason he didn't tell me was because he was trying to protect me!" she raged, her eyes literally shooting sparks. "As if I needed his bloody protection! PROTECTION? I'm a freaking reincarnated ancient goddess of fire! I don't need his PROTECTION!"

She whirled around away from Hermione, her arms outstretched towards the sky, lightning shooting from her fingertips. The light radiating from her was so bright, Hermione couldn't look directly at her.

Ginny's skirt was plastered against her legs, her hair was swirling around her and her pupils were completely gold. She pointed one arm straight up into the sky and a thick pillar of fire shot up from the ground around her, parting the clouds and disappearing into the heavens.

After a few minutes of letting the fire swirl around her, Ginny lowered her arms and took several short breaths.

"Damn," she panted, turning around towards Hermione again, "that felt good."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but stopped as Ginny's face suddenly went stony. 

"What?" she asked. "What is it now?"

"Hermione," she said flatly, without taking her eyes off whatever she was looking at over her shoulder, "Get inside now. I mean it."

"Why?" Hermione said, now frightened, "What's going on?"

She turned around to see what Ginny was glaring at and saw with dismay that Harry was running down the back steps towards them.

"Oh no," she muttered under her breath, "This is not good."

"No it's not good," Ginny said through gritted teeth. "And it's even worse for that arsehole. Now get inside and put up the strongest shields you can think of."

"Ginny," Hermione said tentatively, "You won't…hurt him…will you?"

"I make no promises Hermione," she replied with a not-at-all comforting grin. Hermione decided that was the best she was going to get and took off towards the back porch passing Harry on the way.

"You are a complete moron," she hissed at him. "If she decides to kill you I'm going to help!" She ran quickly towards the house and shut the door behind her, throwing the most powerful locking charm she could think of over her shoulder.

"Ron," she shouted, "C'mon, we've got to shield the house! No telling what they'll do to each other out there!"

"Way ahead of you!" he bellowed back, already moving quickly around the house throwing shield charms at the walls and windows.

"I'll get the upstairs," she yelled, sprinting up the stairs. She spell-proofed all the walls and windows and ran back downstairs to Ron who was rushing back into the kitchen after finishing up the front room.

"Think it'll be enough?" he asked in a panicked tone.

They hurried over to the kitchen sink which had a window overlooking the backyard and looked for signs of mass destruction. It wasn't hard to see. The largest oak tree was smoking and had a charred trunk. Harry had apparently used it as a shield at one point. Right now, he had his wand brandished, using it to cast what looked like a powerful golden shield in front of him. Ginny was throwing hexes and fireballs at him faster than he could move the shield to block them and at least half of spells were making it past the shield, forcing him to bop and weave around the yard.

"Keep moving Harry," Ron muttered, "A stationary target is easier to hit."

Hermione snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she mumbled through her hand, her eyes wide. "It's really not funny."

"Well," Ron conceded, "It's a _little_ funny…"

They grinned at each other and looked back out of the window in time to see Harry dive to his left to avoid a bolt of fire Ginny tossed at him with her right hand. She had foreseen this move however, because she had immediately used the wand in her left hand to fire a powerful stinging hex at the spot Harry dove towards.

She scored a direct hit and Hermione couldn't help herself from clapping as Harry let out a cry of indignation.

"That was a great move," she commented. "Excellent strategy."

"Taught her everything she knows," Ron said proudly, throwing an arm around his wife's shoulders.

He continued to look out the window, not taking his eyes off of his little sister who was beating the shite out of his best mate and the proclaimed savior of the wizarding world.

Ginny had waited until she was sure Hermione was safely inside before throwing her first hex at Harry.

"I told you NOT to follow me!" she screamed at him.

"Ginny," Harry called back, quickly raising a shield, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get so angry at you. Please calm down so we can talk…"

"Don't. You. Tell. Me. To. Calm. Down," Ginny yelled back at him, throwing quickly conjured fireballs at him with every word. "This is your entire fault!"

"I know!" Harry shouted, "And I'm sorry okay, I just want to talk to you about…" He cut off with a yelp as he was forced to drop to the ground to avoid what looked suspiciously like a bolt of lightening Ginny had chucked at him. 

"Quit doing that!" he bellowed at her irritably. "I'm trying to talk to you!" But his request fell on deaf ears as another fireball broke through his shield, singeing the top of his hair.

"Aaaahh," he screamed, patting himself frantically on the top of the head to make sure his hair wasn't on fire.

"You burnt my hair!"

"Talk?" Ginny screeched at him. "TALK! You want to talk! I just spent the past 10 years of my life pining away for the bloody boy-who-lived who now, that I am over him, decides that I am finally worthy of his undying devotion! And you want to TALK to me? You ought to be humbling yourself at my feet just to get me to look at you again!"

"I know!" Harry hollered, "But I've been in love with you for the past SIX years so I think that deserves some sort of…" But he was forced to drop to the ground again to dodge what he suspected was a Bat Bogey Hex flying over his head.

"Ginny please," he pleaded with her from the ground, deciding to switch tactics. "Please, put down the fire goddess for just a second and listen to me?"

Ginny felt herself weakening. She had exerted a lot of energy in a short amount of time and if she didn't get her temper under control she was going to burn out. She was still pissed and she didn't want to listen to anything he had to say but she really needed to get out of there and have a good long cry. So she lowered her hand and looked at Harry who was looking up at her with a hopeful expression.

"What is there to say Harry?" She said, sighing heavily and running her fingers through her disheveled hair. "The only way I know how to respond to this is with anger. I am just so ANGRY with you right now."

She couldn't stop the tiny sob that escaped or the tears that sprung to her eyes. She put her hand up over her mouth and took a few deep breaths through her nose, willing herself to calm down; to keep the tears back long enough to get out of there with her dignity still intact.

"Ginny," Harry begged, "There is so MUCH to say. I am still so in lo…"

"STOP!" Ginny demanded, holding up a hand. "Don't even say that. I won't believe it, not for a second. If you really," she swallowed, "loved me you wouldn't have let me walk away without telling me. You would have explained things…"

"But I knew if I told you that you'd stay here," Harry interrupted. "I couldn't let Malfoy get to you."

He stood up from the ground and walked over to her, his hands stretched out in supplication. "Please Nix, don't shut me out. We need each other, you know that's true!"

"Don't call me that," she hissed angrily. "You lost all rights to call me that when you decided to shove me aside until YOU deemed it was SAFE to love me. Is that what I was for you? Just a rainy day fantasy? Someone you could just take out and dust off for use when you couldn't find anything better? Always in the back of your mind wasn't I? Ginny Weasley, the girl who loves Harry Potter--thought maybe you'd keep me around just in case?"

"NO! You know that isn't true Ginny!" Harry pleaded.

"I DON'T KNOW _ANYTHING_!" Ginny bellowed. "I thought I knew you but it was all a lie! The Harry I thought I knew wouldn't have let Lord Voldemort get in the way of his happiness! The Harry I was in love with wouldn't have been AFRAID to love me just because of a few nasty dark wizards! The Harry who was my best friend would have trusted me enough to take care of myself!"

"But I was," Harry said simply, "scared I mean. I was just a kid and I was scared for you and for my own sanity if something happened to you. I couldn't have stood it if something had happened to you. I wanted to tell you but I decided that it was better to have you angry with me than dead."

"I WAS DEAD!" Ginny shouted at him. "Every time you didn't return my feelings I died! Every time you looked at me and I thought 'Oh, he's finally starting to notice me' and then you turned back around to date someone else, I felt like dying!"

"I explained about that," Harry said patiently.

"You've explained nothing!" She shrieked. She had to calm down, she thought frantically, she was getting all worked up again.

"Look Harry," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I really can't talk to you about this anymore. It makes me too angry and I can barely stand to look at you right now. Don't you understand what you have done?"

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "You took away my choices. You made a decision to put your feelings for me on the back burner until YOU decided it was the right time to bring them out. I would NEVER have done that to you. I would never have taken away your choices like that. I would have loved you…I DID love you in spite of everything, in spite of being scared that you might die. I wanted to grab every moment I could with you." She broke off with a sob, covering her face with her hands.

"But you did Ginny," he pointed out. "You ended our friendship without discussing it with me."

As soon as the words were out he knew they had been a mistake.

"What?" she said in a low voice, looking up from her hands with a murderous expression despite the tears in her eyes. "What did you just say to me?"

Harry swallowed. "Sorry. You're right, that's not really the same thing."

"You're damn straight it isn't the same thing!" she shouted at him. "It's completely different. I DID give you a choice! You had a thousand opportunities! And I stood there like an IDIOT and told you how I felt about you–laid it all out on the line for you and you STILL didn't say anything! I told you that I was leaving because you didn't love me and you just let me say it, knowing how you felt about me!"

She burst into tears and buried her face in her hands again. She wasn't normally much of a crier but she was just so furious at him she couldn't help it.

"Please leave," she begged through her hands. "I can't do this anymore. And I won't forgive you for this so please…just go."

"All right Ginny," Harry said defeated, looking down at his feet. He was quiet for a moment and looked back up at her, his green eyes shining with intensity.

"But I'm not giving up. I'll be back and we are going to work through this. I lost you once because of my stupidity and I'm not going to do it again." 

He apparated away without waiting for a response. His last image was of Ginny crumbling into a heap on the ground.


	7. Chapter 7 Harry's Reinforcements

Ginny Weasley was seriously reconsidering her decision to move back to England.

She had been home less than a month and within the first week she had reconciled with Harry, kissed him, learned he had been lying to her for the past six years, kicked his arse in a magical duel of epic proportions and was now spending most of her efforts trying to avoid the Boy-Who-Lived.

Paris was calling her back.

After uttering those ominous words, "I'm not giving up on you," Harry had spent the last three weeks making good on his promise. He had given her two days to calm down and then she had woken up one morning to find every spare inch of her bedroom covered in wildflowers. A note had been floating in the center of the room with her name on it. When she reached for it, it had opened itself to display the message:

_"I've always imagined you belonged on a bed of wildflowers."_

Ginny had ripped up the note and with a snap of her fingers, burnt the flowers to a crisp. The ashes had made quite a mess but she had just opened her window and waved her hand, allowing a conjured wind to carry them outside.

Two days after that, Harry had sent her a large box of her favorite Honeydukes chocolate which she promptly gave to her mother.

Later that afternoon, Harry had actually shown up at the Burrow. He had knocked on the door, and Ginny, who had been closest to it at the time, opened it up, to find him leaning casually against the doorjamb. She promptly slammed the door in his face.

"That's fine Ginny!" he had yelled through the door. "But I meant it when I said I wasn't giving up. You can't avoid me forever!"

He spent the next several days showing up at the Burrow at odd times of the day, trying to get her to talk to him. She made every effort to avoid him but he was Harry Potter–a man who had made a habit of surviving by doing the unpredictable–and he learned quickly not to adopt a pattern of visiting times, lest Ginny realize when he would be coming. This way, he at least caught a glimpse of her from time to time--right before she slammed the door in his face.

One time Ginny had returned home to find Harry and her traitorous mother enjoying a friendly cup of tea in the kitchen.

"Oh, Ginny dear," her mother had smiled with a nervous look on her face. "Harry's just stopped by for a visit. Wasn't that nice of him?"

Ginny had just narrowed her eyes and Harry had been flung out of his seat, hitting the back wall with a thud. Her mother had gasped in shock but Harry had picked himself off the floor and grinned at her. "You've got exquisite control Phoenix," he remarked.

She narrowed her eyes again and his jacket went up in flames, burning straight off of his body in less than 30 seconds.

"Oi!" he had shouted to her retreating back, "That was one of my favorites!" But his protests had fallen on deaf ears as Ginny had stalked her way to her room and slammed the door.

Back downstairs her mother had rolled her eyes and brushed the soot off of Harry. 

"Never mind dear," Molly had reassured. "She'll get over it…eventually. She always does."

But Harry had wondered how many times he would be sent to St. Mungo's before that happened.

Three days later a brand-new Firebolt arrived at the house for Ginny along with a note from Harry explaining that he knew she had always wanted one and he wanted to spend the rest of his life giving her whatever she wanted.

Ginny had sent the Firebolt back along with a postscript scrawled underneath Harry's note stating that while her mother had enjoyed the chocolates he sent, the older woman didn't really have much use for a broom.

The next morning the Firebolt was standing in a corner of her room when Ginny woke up. She wasn't sure how he was getting into her room but she began increasing the locking charm she was in the habit of casting on her doors and windows. It had no effect and he continued to make late nights visits leaving behind little notes and gifts and in one crazy moment of weakness, had actually spent a few minutes stroking the hair back from her face while she slept. It had been nice when she smiled in her sleep as he touched her but Harry decided that watching someone while they slept probably constituted as stalking and the late night visits stopped.

Instead, Harry resorted to having things delivered by the morning post. Hedwig flying into the Burrow's kitchen became a usual sight and Ginny and Hedwig struck up a sort of friendship. Ginny complained to the snowy white owl about her "git of an owner" and Hedwig hooted sympathetically while nibbling on bits of the woman's bacon.

Molly Weasley decided it was time to have a little chat with her daughter. She couldn't blame Ginny for being angry with Harry but surely her daughter could understand that Harry had been doing his best to protect her the only way he knew how. When Molly stressed this to Ginny urgently one afternoon over tea her daughter had gone quiet and crumbled her biscuit into little pieces before looking up at her mother with a weary expression on her face.

"It's not that I don't understand why he did it Mum," she said. "I know Harry and he's always had this stupid idea that he is the only one who can protect everyone it's just that…well, he lied to me. We shared a lot those last two years at school and the whole time he was lying to me. I loved him so much and tried really hard to forget him when he said he didn't love me back. I don't know how I can forgive that. It feels like he betrayed my feelings for him," she said, leaning back into her chair and rubbing her temples with her fingers.

"And now he won't go away and I don't know what to do. I'm just still so angry at him…"

Molly had handed her another biscuit and remained silent, deciding that perhaps neutrality was best in this situation. Truthfully she could see both sides of the story. She didn't approve of Harry's lies but as a mother, she couldn't help but be a little grateful to Harry for putting her daughter's safety above his own.

By this point, the story of Harry's confession and subsequent arse-kicking from Ginny had worked its way through the family. The brothers had mixed reactions–Harry was practically family but Ginny definitely their sister. Fred and George had been delighted at Ron's description of the battle outside his home and immediately disappeared into their laboratory to create something they were calling "Ginny's Fireballs–guaranteed to set your enemies hair on fire!" Bill had been a confusing combination of anger at Harry for hurting his sister and pride for Ginny, who, he had heard, actually threw bolts of lightning at the boy-who-lived. Percy was oddly silent and Charlie had vowed to remain neutral.

Ron was in a very awkward position and made it a habit to agree with whoever was ranting to him at the time. When Harry was complaining that he had just been trying to protect the remarkably stubborn witch, Ron had agreed wholeheartedly. When Ginny had been visiting one evening and had launched into a 3-minute soliloquy about "stupid gits with curse scars on their foreheads," Ron had just nodded his head in acquiescence.

"But which one do you really think is right?" Hermione asked him after Ginny left.

"They both are," he had responded honestly. And Hermione had left it at that.

Hermione was in an equally precarious position since she was a friend to both Harry and Ginny, but she couldn't stop herself from making an attempt to reconcile the two.

"You need to talk to him," she had urged Ginny. "No matter what he's done, you can't spend the rest of your life mad at him. I think he is really in love with you. I've never seen him this upset about anything. We both know that Harry is always going to try and do the noble thing, even if it means sacrificing his own happiness. He didn't want to lose you; it's kind of sweet really."

"He did lose me," Ginny retorted. "And he was sacrificing my happiness at the same time, only I didn't get a say in it."

So Hermione had confronted Harry: "You changed the course of her life without asking her Harry," she insisted. "That's why she is so angry with you. She was really in love with you and gave you everything she had to give. But you didn't treat her with the same respect."

"I know Hermione," he had moaned, flopping back on the couch. "And I'm sorry about it, I really am. I don't know how many more ways I can say that to her. I know I screwed up but I was just so in love with her I couldn't see straight. Of course she can protect herself, but Voldemort could tell what I was thinking and it made me crazy with worry for her safety. Just tell me what to do. I'll do anything to make it up to her."

"Oh Harry," Hermione had sighed. And she had made a few suggestions.

The day after Harry had talked to Hermione, Hedwig brought Ginny an ancient text on fire goddesses Harry had discovered in the massive Black family library at Grimmauld Place. It was one Ginny hadn't read before and she couldn't bring herself to send it back.

When the book wasn't immediately returned ripped into tiny little pieces, Harry decided he was making some headway and went to visit the Lupins as a small celebration.

Tonks let him in the door but since she was still maintaining her clear position of support for Ginny, she didn't seem very happy to see him.

"Remus is in his study," she told him, holding the door open for Harry to enter. She turned back towards the kitchen almost immediately but Harry put his hand on her arm.

"Tonks," he said softly. "Why are you so angry with me? I mean, I understand why Ginny is angry…"

Tonks deflated.

"I'm sorry Harry," she said, looking down at her red combat books. "I know I haven't been a very good godmother lately. It's just that I really identify with Ginny on this." She looked up at him, and searched his face. There was definite pain there, she decided.

"Remus tried to do something very similar to me before we got together. He tried to suppress his feelings because he was afraid for me too. And I can't tell you how miserable that made me. Knowing that I loved him and that there was a spark between us he refused to acknowledge. Said he was too dangerous. It was a load of rubbish and it was awful–I felt so helpless. And it hurt you know, it felt like…like he didn't love me enough to take the risks even though I made it plain that I loved him enough to take them."

She looked at him intently. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Harry swallowed thickly and looked down at his feet.

"Yeah, I understand. But Tonks…" he looked up at her, green eyes burning, "I really do love her. I would die for her," he insisted. "I just didn't want her to have to die for me."

Tonks reached out and put a hand to his cheek. "But Harry," she said gently, "that was never your decision to make."

"I know," he whispered back. "And I'm truly sorry I hurt her. But if I had to do it all over again…I think I would have made the same decision. Ginny…she was…is…special and I would have done whatever was in my power to keep her safe. It wasn't a decision I made lightly you know. I really agonized over it. I did the best I could at the time."

"I believe you Harry," Tonks replied, removing her hand. "And I'm sorry I've been standoffish. It's really none of my business."

"S'alright," her godson said with a small smile. "I'd probably have reacted the same way if you had hurt Remus."

Tonks pushed at his shoulder with her hand. "Cheeky bugger. Now get in there, I think Remus is expecting you."

Tossing one last sad smile over his shoulder, Harry walked into the study and Tonks returned to the kitchen.

Thirty minutes later, Tonks walked past the partially open study door and heard a strange noise from within. She poked her head in the door and saw a sight that stopped her in her tracks. Remus was standing in the center of the room, his arms wrapped around Harry who was sobbing brokenly on the werewolf's shoulder. Remus had his hand on the back of Harry's head and was murmuring soothing words in the boy-who-lived's ear. His eyes lifted and met his wife's across the room but he made no indication of sound, not wanting to disturb his godson.

Tonks backed quietly out of the room and softly closed the door behind her. She leaned back against the door with a small thump and closed her eyes with a soft sigh. After a few moments, she pushed herself off the door and made her way slowly up the stairs, thinking that, perhaps, it was time she started acting like a godmother. 

Later that week, Tonks and Ginny were shopping for maternity clothes for Hermione in muggle London. They had decided to surprise their friend, whose clothes were just starting to get tight, with a new outfit.

"What do you think of this?" Ginny said, holding up a pretty yellow jumper with daises embroidered on the cuff.

Tonks pursed her lips, thinking. "I think it's probably going to be too small real quickly. She's carrying twins and she's going to be bigger than that soon."

"Well don't point that out to her," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "She'll only accuse you of saying she's fat."

Tonks snorted. "She has been a bit hormonal lately hasn't she?"

"A bit?! Yesterday she laughed, cried, got angry and then laughed again all in the space of three minutes. I think Ron may have a mental breakdown before all this is over."

Tonks laughed again and continued to search the racks. They were silent for a few minutes, sliding hangers aside. Tonks decided to seize the moment.

"I saw Harry yesterday."

"Did you? How nice," Ginny said casually. "Here, what about this?" And she held up a light blue empire-waisted dress. "It'll grow with her stomach."

"That's perfect," Tonks said, smiling at her friend. She could tell Ginny was trying to change the subject. She also knew that Ginny knew Tonks wouldn't give up without a fight.

They paid for the dress and walked out into the crisp autumn air. It was a bit chilly and Tonks wrapped her corduroy jacket tighter around her against the breeze. "Don't you ever get cold?" she asked crossly. Ginny was only wearing a short denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up past her wrists and didn't seem to mind the nippy air.

"Sorry," Ginny smiled briefly, "It's a fire goddess thing. I usually stay pretty warm unless it's really cold outside."

Tonks reached out to wrap her fingers around Ginny's wrist. She drew back her hand in shock. "Blimey, you really are warm! C'mon then, give us a hug, share the wealth."

Ginny laughed, and throwing an arm over her friend's shoulders, pulled her closer. "Better?"

Tonks sighed happily and snuggled closer, "Much better thanks. You're like a furnace, I don't know how you wear clothes at all."

"Well," Ginny explained casually, "I can sort of regulate it you know. Turn it up and turn it down, a bit like a gas lamp actually. I'm not really sure I could get too hot."

"Well don't be so stingy from now on," Tonks huffed. "I was freezing over there."

"Shall I just set your clothes on fire right here in the middle of London then? That would warm you right up."

"Git," Tonks grumped at her. The two friends strolled arm in arm down the line of shops and Tonks decided to make another attempt.

"Listen Ginny," she began. But Ginny quickly cut her off.

"No Tonks, I know what you're trying to do and it isn't going to work. I'm not going to talk to him."

Tonks was silent, studying her friend's profile. Actually, she thought that was precisely what the young woman needed. She and Harry needed to just talk this thing through. Ginny's cold shoulder was beginning to take its toll on him.

"I saw Harry," she repeated stubbornly, "and he's really hurting. I've made no secret of being on your side of things but I think talking to him is exactly what you should do."

"I really don't have anything to say to him," Ginny said airily. "Oooh, let's go in here." She led Tonks into a shop that was advertising a 75 percent off sale. 

"I'm not giving up on this Ginny, you've got to talk to someone about this," Tonks insisted, following her friend into the store and holding out her arms as Ginny began piling clothes into them.

"Tonks," Ginny warned, "leave it alone."

"Look I know it's none of my business. But can't you find it in your heart to forgive the man?" she pleaded. "I really think he understands what he did and he's sorry, you're really breaking his heart."

"Breaking HIS heart?" Ginny said loudly. Other shopper's heads shot up and stared at her. Ginny flushed and resumed loading clothes on top of Tonks.

"Breaking his heart?" Ginny hissed. "What do you think he did to mine?"

"I know," Tonks said. "I KNOW, trust me. Remus tried to pull the same shite with me remember? I think it must be in the male genetic code or something. 'Me man, me protect my woman' and all that nonsense. And I told him he had no right to make such a decision for you. But do you know what he said?"

"What?" Ginny asked, somewhat mollified that her friend would stand up for her to her own godson.

"He told me he made the best decision he knew how to make at the time and that if he had to do it over again, he was pretty sure he would do the same thing because he couldn't help protecting you. He said that he was really sorry he hurt you and that he loved you and would have died for you…but he didn't want you to have to die for him."

Ginny contemplated her friend for a moment and then turned back to the clothes rack without commenting. Tonks sighed in frustration. It was time to bring out the big guns.

"Do you know what I saw later that evening?" She asked her friend softly. Not waiting for an answer she continued, "I saw him crying on Remus' shoulder."

Ginny whipped her head back around, her long red hair flying around her. "What? He was crying?"

Score! Tonks smirked to herself. "Yes, crying, sobbing actually, on Remus' shoulder."

"But why would Harry be crying?"

"Because he's head over arse in love with you and you won't give him the time of day," Tonks rolled her eyes. "Though I can't see why he's so in love with you. You're a bit of a drama queen."

Ginny couldn't stop a small smile from gracing her face. "Git," she accused good-naturedly, and pulled a pair of pants off the rack to drape over the already substantial pile weighing Tonks down.

"Oof," Tonks said, tipping the pile into the nearest chair. "What do you need all these clothes for anyway? Don't you have a fashionable Paris wardrobe?"

"Of course," Ginny said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "But if I'm going to continue to represent cutting edge fashion in Ottery St. Catchpole, I'm going to need some new outfits."

The two friends giggled together as they divided the clothes up to take to separate dressing rooms. Right before they split up to try on their choices, Tonks shifted her pile of clothes to one arm and placed her left hand on Ginny's shoulder, halting her progress.

"Ginny," she said, tugging her friend around to face her. She smiled at the look of trepidation on Ginny's face and put a hand up to her friend's hair, brushing it out of her face and behind her ear.

"You and Harry…you've got too much history to let this go, you know. You two had a connection I have never seen before. Or that anyone else had ever seen for that matter. You guys were special and even though you're mad at him for hurting you, maybe you should think about the reasons behind his actions. He did it because he loves you," she insisted softly, gripping her friend's shoulder.

"I really believe that. I've seen it in him. I've met some of those girls he's gone out with you know. And he never looked at any of them the way he looked…the way he still looks…at you."

Tonks backed away from her friend, turning towards the changing room. "Just think about it okay?"

Ginny swallowed and watched her friend walk away. "Okay," she breathed softly under her breath.

Percy Weasley tossed his glasses on top of his cluttered desk and leaned back in his chair with an exhausted sigh. He massaged the bridge of his nose where the glasses tended to pinch him, and allowed the quietness of the nearly deserted Minister of Magic's office to wash over him.

It was nearly 7 p.m. on a Thursday evening and he should have been home 2 hours ago, but the Minister had laid a last minute request on his desk and Percy felt compelled to stay and finish it. The report was done now and neatly labeled in three separate folders waiting for the Minister to view it in the morning. The minister was always been pleased with his work and while this had initially delighted Percy, he quickly realized what a standard he had set for himself. He often had to work late just to keep up as the Minister piled more and more work on his favorite employee.

Percy was about ready to chuck the whole thing and throw in with the twins who were constantly hinting they needed someone to take care of their books. 

They needed someone to cook their books more likely, Percy thought grumpily as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head. Walking over to his coat stand, he grabbed his robe and hat in preparation for his departure. Just as he was about to open the door to make his way to the ministry apparation point, the fire placed flared and his wife's head appeared in the green flames.

"Oh Percy, glad I caught you," Penelope said breathlessly. "Your mum flooed and asked us to come to supper at the Burrow this evening. Sort of a last minute invitation really, but she said Ginny's been in a real funk over this whole Harry thing and would probably enjoy a visit with her nephews."

"All right Penelope, I'll apparate straight there," he said, throwing his cloak over his shoulders.

"You look tired dear," his wife said, looking at him thoughtfully.

Percy smiled at her wanly. "I am pretty tired actually. I've been staring at parchment for the last three hours and it makes my eyes glaze."

"I know dear," Penelope smiled sympathetically, "But would you really be happy looking at anything else?"

"I'm not so sure anymore," he couldn't help himself from confessing.

Penelope's eyes widened a fraction and she gazed searchingly at her husband. "All right Percy," she said softly. "We'll talk about it later tonight right?" She turned her head to the right and gave a quick yelp.

"Oops, got to go sweetheart, Alexander's just got into the floo pot. Stupid of me to leave it right on the floor." And with a wave, she was gone.

Percy walked through the darkened ministry towards the waiting apparation point. Truthfully, he was pleased to be going to the Burrow. There was nothing like his mother's cooking after a long day and while Penny's meals were always good, his mother's was comforting. The two years Percy had been estranged from his family over Harry and Voldemort had been the worst years of his life and he never took his mother's meals for granted again after she had welcomed him back with open arms.

He apparated to the Burrow and walked in the kitchen door, announcing his arrival as he let the kitchen door close behind him.

"Percy!" Ginny jumped up from the table and kissed her brother on the cheek before setting a heavy pan of peeled potatoes on the stove to boil.

"Oh hello dear," Molly said, wiping her hands on her apron and coming over to embrace her son. "Good day at the office?"

Percy allowed his mother to hold him, relaxing in the familiar feeling for just a moment before pulling back and smiling bravely. "Long day at the office, mother. Is Penny here yet?"

"Here we are!" his wife called from the living room, where she had just flooed in with their 15-month son Alexander and his 3-year-old brother Arthur. She was balancing a struggling Alexander on her hip with one hand and trying to brush the soot off Arthur with her other.

"Daddy!" Arthur shouted when he saw his father, and broke away from his mother's fussy hands to run and throw himself around Percy's legs.

"Arthur!" Penny said, "Don't get soot all over your father's robes."

"It's all right Penny," Percy smiled at her, and leaned down to pick up his son. He carried him back over to his wife and leaned down, kissing her softly before pulling away to smile at her again.

"Good day dear?"

"Busy," she replied, setting Alexander down so he could toddle over to his Aunt Ginny. "Remind me later to tell you what new and disgusting thing your eldest son has learned to do with the piles the dog leaves in the yard."

Percy looked at his son with raised eyebrows but Arthur just smiled innocently back at him. The boy really was too much like his uncles.

Ginny watched Percy out of the corner of her eye as he greeted his family. He looked tired, almost drained and her suspicions that Percy was not quite the mindless paper pusher he thought he had wanted to be were confirmed. She handed Alexander over to his grandfather and walked over to Percy.

"C'mere Perce," she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him over to a dark corner.

"What Ginny?" But she just shushed him and made him close his eyes. She put one hand on his forehead and one on his neck. Almost immediately, Percy felt the tension and bone-weary exhaustion drain out of him. She kept her hands on him a few more moments before removing them and smiled brightly at him. "Better?"

"You're an empath aren't you?" Percy breathed.

"Yeah I am," she confessed. "Only don't make a big deal okay. I don't want it getting around."

"Sure Ginny, as long as you promise to do that again when I need it," Percy grinned at her. It was amazing how much better he felt.

Ginny titled her head to gaze at him searchingly. "It's not quite what you thought it would be, is it?" she asked gently. "Working at the ministry I mean."

"It's exactly what I thought it would be," Percy said after a moment. "It's just that…well, I seem to not enjoy it so much anymore. Since…well…since Voldemort, I find my priorities have shifted. There's Penny and the kids and I miss a lot of time with them. The boys will be going to Hogwarts before I know it and well," Percy swallowed, "I guess I'm finding I'm not as ambitious as I thought I was."

Ginny put a hand to his cheek and he felt another wave of peace wash over him. "Wanting to raise your sons is just another type of ambition Percy," she said. "And I'm pretty sure it's a lot more important than moving up in the ministry."

Percy stared at her. Reaching up a hand to cover hers and squeeze the small hand on his face, he said, "I guess I hadn't thought about it like that."

"Alex and Arthur are the most important work you are ever going to do," she stressed. "I know you want to leave your mark on the ministry but do you really have to run yourself into the ground to do it?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I've been thinking more and more about the offer from Fred and George to be their accounts manager."

"Well, if you fancy blue hair on a regular basis that is definitely the way to go," she giggled, removing her hand from his face. "Seriously though, working for the twins would be a breath of fresh air after that stuffy ministry."

"Maybe," Percy smiled at his little sister. He took her hand and squeezed it again and led her over to the dinner table.

He couldn't stop himself from staring at his sister throughout dinner. It really was amazing how much better she had made him feel, he mused, and tonight he could practically see the power glowing through her skin. Something about being around her family must bring out the best in Ginny. The only other person Percy had ever seen glow with power was Harry and his was, frankly, a little intimidating. Ginny on the other hand glowed with a soft golden light, although Percy knew she could be dangerous when she got worked up.

He had heard the stories of Ginny's fight with Harry but hadn't been able to bring himself to condemn the boy-who-lived. He understood Ginny's anger of course, anyone with eyes could have seen how she had felt about him and for him to lie about it to her--well it must be very frustrating. But Percy had learned a few things about Harry over the past few years, and the man seemed to have one strict rule–protect his friends at all costs. So he couldn't imagine how it must have panicked the poor boy when he discovered he was in love with Ginny.

Taking a final bite of his mother's apple pie, Percy stood up to help his wife clear the table. His mother fussed at them to let her clean up and Percy didn't argue. Leading his wife into the living room, he sank into the comfortable couch with a sigh and rested a hand on his wife's thigh, content for a moment. His father soon joined them and flipped on the Wizarding Wireless Network to catch the latest news. They listened in a contented silence until Ginny walked into the living room with Arthur clamped around her leg and Alexander giggling while she held him upside down.

"Oh!" Penny jumped up from the couch, "Let me help you Ginny."

"It's okay," Ginny smiled at her. "I just thought it would be easier for mum to clean up if they weren't under her feet."

"Here Ginny, let's take them outside and they can run around a bit." Percy stood up to grab his youngest son while Penny ran to find their cloaks.

Finally bundled up against the night air, Percy and Ginny stood in the backyard watching his children chase each other in circles. Percy had cast warming charms on his sons so he wasn't worried about them catching a cold and perhaps if Alexander could stop falling down every two minutes, the poor boy might actually catch his older brother.

Suddenly, in a flurry of wings, a snowy white owl landed on a nearby picnic table and held out a leg towards Ginny.

"Hedwig!" Ginny exclaimed and rushed over to remove a flat square package from the owl's foot. "Isn't it a bit late for a visit?" The owl hooted back at her and Percy was sure he was mistaken but he thought the hoot contained a note of frustration. Ginny just cooed back at Hedwig, stroking her head and whispering to her, "I know, he's a nasty master isn't he, sending a pretty thing like you out so late at night. You probably had a million other things to do rather than bring me silly gifts."

Hedwig nipped her finger in a show of affection and took off again, a white dot soaring through the darkening sky.

Ginny shoved the package into her pocket without looking at it and Percy couldn't control his curiosity. "What is it Ginny?"

"Oh just another present from Harry," she said dismissively. "I'll open it later."

"Does he send gifts often then?"

"Almost every day. He's being a real pain in the arse. Won't even let me sulk in silence," she said grinning at him. "It's been a waste of time though, because there isn't the perfect gift out there to make up for what he did."

"Maybe not," Percy agreed, "but at least he's trying. That ought to count for something."

"Well he should have tried six years ago," she said stubbornly. "It's too late now."

"He did try six years ago," Percy pointed out. "He tried to protect you. That should tell you something."

"It tells me that he didn't trust me enough to protect myself," Ginny scoffed. "It tells me that I wasn't important enough to love openly."

"I'm not sure that was his point," Percy said, wincing when he saw his sister's eyes narrow a bit. He didn't normally get involved in these situations but he couldn't help identifying with Harry–the man had made a mistake, just like Percy had once.

Percy wasn't so removed from the lives of his siblings that he couldn't see what everyone else saw when Harry and Ginny stood together. Fire and Earth was indeed an apt description, he thought now, remembering a conversation he had once with his youngest brother.

He was being very bold he knew, but if anybody knew about regretting actions, it was Percy and he couldn't let his sister go on like this. Anyone who asked to be forgiven should have a chance, especially Harry.

"Ginny," he said firmly, turning to face her. "Don't get mad at me, I'm just trying to help. It's just that well…I think…"

"What Percy?" Ginny asked curious. "What do you think?" She was genuinely interested in what he had to say. Percy didn't often dispense advice on matters of the heart and he wasn't really known for his emotional confrontations.

"I think Harry was loving you the only way he knew how," Percy said slowly. "I think you were so important to him and he lost so many people he cared about that he went a little crazy over you. Of all the people who stood by him, you were the most important. And he couldn't deny you the right to fight with the rest of us because he knew you wouldn't have been able to stand that, so he did whatever he had to do to keep Voldemort's attention solely on him."

"No matter how powerful of a witch you are, you couldn't have stood up to Voldemort by yourself and Harry was right in thinking he would find a way to take you if he knew how important you were to Harry. Don't you remember what happened with Sirius?" Percy asked his sister, searching her face for signs that he was going too far. "Voldemort had some sort of, I don't know, link I suppose, into Harry's thoughts and he would have been able to tell."

"I wasn't afraid to love HIM Percy," Ginny snapped. "In spite of him being the target of an evil wizard. I was willing to die for him."

"I know," Percy said simply. "But you didn't have a link with Voldemort that allowed him to read your thoughts. Harry did."

Ginny stood silent, watching her nephew pick up a stick and carry it over to his older brother. She hadn't thought about it like that before. 

"Did I ever tell you he saved my life?" Percy said quietly, not looking at her.

"Harry did? When?" she said, startled back into looking at him.

"That last battle. When Voldemort attacked Hogwarts. I had just reconciled with everyone and was determined to prove myself to you all. But I had been in denial so long I wasn't as prepared as everyone else and I got into a tight spot with two deatheaters."

Percy shoved his hands into his robes and sighed. "I guess Harry saw me struggling because before I knew it, both deatheaters were down and Harry was standing over their bodies. He had stunned them at the same time but the stunner was so strong it blew them into the wall and it…it killed them."

"I couldn't believe it," Percy continued softly. "After everything I had said about him, after the horrible things I did to him in the name of the ministry, and after all the times I had hurt you guys, he still protected me. I didn't know what to say or how to thank him but he just helped me up and said he had saved me because my death would have really hurt my family and you. It was very humbling."

Percy looked at her. "He specifically mentioned you Ginny. He saved me because he knew you would be upset if you had lost one of your brothers." There was another pause while Percy waited for Ginny to comment.

"Look at me Ginny," Percy said firmly, placing his hands on her arms and forcing her to turn towards him.

"Harry is a good man," he said, shaking her a little. "The best. And I spent two years of my life trying to deny it. You want to talk about time wasted? Well I wasted too much time wallowing in self-pity and anger over my family. I'll never get that time back. It was such a waste and I have a whole pile of regrets because I was too proud to swallow my pride and accept you all for who you were. I couldn't even give you the courtesy of agreeing to disagree. You were either with me or against me. And by the time I decided I needed you all in my life, it was nearly too late."

"The world is not black and white Ginevra," Percy insisted, releasing his grip on her. "We do the best we can do and the right decision is not always clear. Right or wrong, Harry did the best thing he knew how to do. And maybe things would have worked out if he had chosen differently but surely you can understand that with his history, protecting you from harm was a natural instinct."

"Do you really want to spend the rest of your life mad at Harry over this?" he asked her softly, now wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her tight into the crook of his shoulder. "Mad at the man who you once loved so much that you blasted Lucius Malfoy into a building when he turned his wand on him?"

"Three buildings," Ginny corrected, her voice muffled. "It was three buildings."

Percy laid his head on top of his sister's and smiled. "Yeah, it was three buildings."

Later that night, after everyone else was in bed, Ginny remembered she hadn't even looked at Harry's gift. She got out of bed and retrieved it from the top of her dresser where she had tossed it when getting ready for bed.

The truth was that Harry had been sending pretty good gifts. He appeared to know a lot about her personal taste, even after four years of being separated and often the gifts seemed to be the result of a series of conversations they once had back at Hogwarts years ago. It had been a little game between them. Hermione had made them watch "The Sound of Music" during a visit at her parent's house and Harry and Ron had immediately launched into their own, extremely silly rendition of "My Favorite Things." Ginny had joined in on the fun when she had suggested adding "a ferret cage for Malfoy" to the list causing Hermione to huff with annoyance at her friends making fun of her favorite movie.

Ginny and Harry had spent the rest of the year tossing out examples of their favorite things to each other over the dinner table, passing each other in the hallway, and while throwing a quaffle back and forth before Quidditch practice. It had been a fun game but Ginny had never expected Harry to remember some of the more serious examples she gave.

She carried the gift back over to the bed and settled the covers around her. She untied the string and tore the brown packaging paper to find a book encased in soft red leather with a golden snitch embossed on the outside. Turning it over to find the spine, she noticed there was no title and opened the front cover hoping to find one. A folded note fell in her lap but she ignored it and flipped through the pages. It looked like a journal and it was full of small neat handwriting in black ink.

Now curious, she picked up the piece of paper to read Harry's note.

_Ginny,_

This is by no means a final ditch effort to beg for your forgiveness but since you won't talk to me, I thought you might read this. It's my journal from my sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts. It explains things better than I ever could.

Always,  
Harry

P.S. I picture you reading this late at night all snuggled in your bed. Are you? I bet you look adorable.

It was a journal–Harry's journal. Goddess. Why would he give her such a thing? She didn't even know he had kept a diary. There must be a thousand private thoughts in here, she thought, flipping through the pages more slowly. And he had given it to her.

Finding herself strangely moved by the trust Harry was placing in her, Ginny opened the cover to begin reading. The journal started during his sixth year. Most of the beginning entries were a record of his day or new spells he had learned in his training with Dumbledore but occasionally he mentioned his friends. Dean and Seamus were getting on his nerves because they wouldn't stop picking on Neville for going out with Luna and Ron and Hermione had been irritating with their constant bickering. _"You'd think sticking their tongues down each other's throats on a regular basis would shut them up but no such luck,"_ he had written on November 15th.

Ginny skimmed the pages looking for her name but she was only mentioned a few times until she got to Christmas. That had been when Harry confronted her about her power getting out of control; she remembered and snuggled down into her pillow to begin reading.

_"When I sensed Ginny's magic at the beginning of the year, I couldn't believe how powerful it was,"_ Harry wrote on Dec. 24th. Ginny was surprised. She had no idea he had connected with her before Christmas.

"_It was so powerful,"_ the journal continued, _"that I couldn't maintain the connection for more than a second because sensing her seemed to do something to my own magic. I was afraid of losing control myself there for a minute. So I decided to wait until I was stronger and this evening I opened up the connection again. It was amazing. I have never felt that before and once again, the power inside of me seemed to sort of respond to hers. Is that even possible? But it seems almost out of control…."_

The entry went on detailing Harry's resolve to confront Ginny and help her with what he termed "the volcano" inside of her.

Ginny read through the increasingly detailed entries in Harry's journal laughing at the way he described Ron and Hermione and sighing at his constant thoughts of death. She was mentioned with increasing frequency until March 3rd when Harry wrote:

_"I really don't know what's wrong with me. I can't seem to stop staring at Ginny and when I look at her I get a swooping motion in my stomach. Does this mean I like her? I got a similar feeling when I looked at Cho last year but this seems more…involved somehow. Ginny is so beautiful, much prettier than Cho, because she sort of shines. And when we're dueling during our training with Remus, the magic inside of her comes alive and she is fierce and strong. I really admire that about her. If she happens to knock me out, she's instantly beside me when I wake up, checking to make sure I'm okay. Today she got me with a stunner and when she woke me up, I noticed that her eyes sort of sparkled and I found myself leaning towards her as if I wanted to kiss her. But I can't like Ginny like that can I? Ron would kill me."_

The entries continued in this manner for the next two months. Harry had grown increasingly agitated over his attraction to her and spent a good deal of time listing reasons why he liked her and reasons why Ron would pummel him if he knew. He even alluded to a few intense dreams that had Ginny blushing. Ginny was astounded. She had no idea he had ever noticed her breasts or her bum or the way her hand felt in his own.

Finally on June 16th, after a lengthy description of the way Ginny had looked in her bikini Harry had written: _"Ginny and I were having a serious conversation at the lake today about Voldemort. She looked at me and I could see the love in her eyes. It's really weird, I've not had a lot of experience with love but I knew instinctively what the look meant. And I knew suddenly that I am totally and completely in love with her. It was a surprise, really, to discover this but as I look back through my journal I suspect most all this has been denial. I really do love her and I can't imagine ever being without her. She makes me feel whole, like I was missing a part of something before. It's really weird. But just as I was about to blurt something embarrassing out, I got a pain in my scar. It really hurt and I panicked thinking that Voldemort would be able to tell how I felt about her. If he found out, he would hunt her down and kill her, just to hurt me. I don't know what to do…  
_  
The next few weeks of entries were full of Harry flip-flopping back and forth over whether to tell Ginny the truth. _"I really want to,"_ he had written, _"sometimes I feel like I'll explode if I can't say it. But then the Daily Prophet is delivered to the Burrow announcing more deaths and I resolve all over again to keep quiet."_

Ginny felt something in her heart that had been cold and still for the past month breaking open.

The rest of the journal was full of daily vows that he would protect Ginny at all costs, that he wouldn't let anybody hurt her and that he would rather her be alive than be with him. He even detailed his elaborate plan to throw suspicion off of her by dating other girls. _"Just a few dates with each one,"_ he wrote. _"Nothing serious, so Voldemort won't hurt anyone, but enough so that he won't focus on Ginny. I can't let him get her."_

Ginny was surprised to learn that Ron had been astute enough to confront Harry about his relationship with Ginny and Harry had worried that Ron hadn't believed him when he lied straight to his face. _"It was really hard to lie to my best friend but I am so in love with Ginny I can barely stand it and I think to even have one person know the truth would make it even harder to live with."_

The entry detailing Harry's reaction to the time when they had shared magic for the first time made Ginny nearly close the book in embarrassment and the colorful language he employed to insult her boyfriends made her giggle. The journal stopped in May of Harry's seventh year, but that was when Voldemort had marched on Hogwarts and he had spent a lot of time in the hospital recuperating.

There was one final entry during the summer that described the note Draco Malfoy had sent to Harry and the despair this had caused. _"I can't believe that after all this time, I still can't tell her,"_ Harry had written. _"How long can I expect her to wait for me?"_

The journal ended there and Ginny closed the book with a sigh. Tracing her fingernails over the snitch on the front cover she reflected on what she had just read. It had been a very intimate portrayal of how he felt about her and she felt…well, blessed really…that he would share it with her. His feelings were intense, apparently, and Ginny had never felt so beautiful when reading the descriptions of why he loved her.

She flopped back over on her pillow and tried to organize her thoughts. She knew the ball was in her court and she would have to make a decision. It really wasn't fair to drag this whole thing out when she wasn't so angry anymore. She thought about what Percy had said; that life was too short to waste it holding onto your anger. And she remembered how it had felt to love Harry all those years ago. To love him so completely and with such assurance they would one day be together. She had been really naïve. And Harry, poor Harry, who had never been taught that true love would always conquer, had been so afraid she would slip through his fingers. But then he hadn't had a family to love him had he? He had never known what it was like to always have someone love you no matter what you did to each other. Apparently, the only person he had ever truly loved…was her.

If she was completely honest with herself, she had never stopped loving Harry, not really. She had learned to live with the pain of not being loved in return but he had always been there, in the back of her heart, despite her denials. Harry had been completely honest with her this time and it was time she was honest with herself.

Ginny sat up and paged through the book again, looking for her favorite entry. It was just a short paragraph, written in April of his seventh year, right before Voldemort came to Hogwarts:

_"Whenever I think about all the people who have died because of Voldemort and all the pressure that is on me because of some bloody prophecy, I almost feel like I can't do it-- that all these people shouldn't be depending on me. I'm just a kid really and I'm sure to let them down. But then I look at Ginny and something in her eyes makes me feel better. There are all sorts of reasons to fight Voldemort, but Ginny gives me a reason to win. I might not be able to fight for everyone, but I want to fight for her."_

The red-haired woman closed the journal with another sigh and flopped back on her pillows, hugging the journal to her body.

And with a familiar ache spreading in her chest, Ginny Weasley fell completely, irrevocably, back in love with Harry Potter


	8. Chapter 8 Dueling for Love

Friday morning dawned bright and clear but in his London home, Harry Potter felt anything but cheerful. He had made a decision last night, which, although it had made perfect sense at the time, was sure to throw a final bucket of water on any relationship he would ever have with Ginny Weasley.

What had possessed him to send her his journal?

Looking back, Harry decided it must have been severe desperation since it had been four weeks since he had kissed her and though it had only been one kiss–it had been pretty spectacular. He was sure the decision to mail her his most private thoughts had nothing to do with the three firewhiskies he had consumed earlier in evening with Ron and Seamus Finnegan at the Leaky Cauldron.

When he had returned home last night, not at all tipsy, sending her the journal had seemed like the perfect solution. She wouldn't talk to him but she would bloody well read the reasons behind his actions. And it was all written right there wasn't it? In Harry's own hand. Every single loving, often perverted, thought he had about Ginny Weasley his last two years at Hogwarts had been written down. Every reason why he couldn't tell her them had immediately followed. So it made perfect sense that if she were to read the journal, she would fly back into his arms and forgive him for being such a berk.

Now that he thought about it however, perhaps sending Ginny a detailed description of how he had lusted after her was not such a hot idea. Upon reflection, maybe she really didn't want to read all the nasty things he had said about her boyfriends. And he was pretty positive that when she came to the section where he detailed a particularly gross story involving his roommates and a "bodily function" contest in January of his sixth year, he would repulse her forever. After all, he had won said contest.

Deciding there was no point dwelling on the darker side of things, Harry got out of bed, planning a nice long shower to wash away a month's worth of tension over the situation with Ginny. Maybe the journal _would_ help her understand. Even if they decided they would never agree on this issue, he would feel a lot better if she could admit to seeing things from his point of view.

Is it even possible to fall back in love with someone? Ginny wondered as she stood in front of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Had she ever even fallen out of love with Harry?

She supposed this wasn't the best place to be considering this right here and right now, with her hand poised over the doorbell to his house.

After her epiphany last night upon reading Harry's journal, she had reluctantly dragged herself out of bed this morning, knowing she would have to face him today. It was only fair she talk to him–after all, she was the one who had accused him of not sharing his feelings with her right away. But…she didn't think she was ready to just jump right back to where they used to be. There had been so much wasted time and it haunted her…

Determined not to waste anymore time, standing outside like an idiot on Harry's front doorstep, she pressed a manicured nail to the doorbell and waited. Dobby opened the door almost immediately and when he saw it was she, his eyes widened. 

"Miss Ginny!" he squeaked. "Harry Potter will be pleased to see his Wheezy!"

Ginny held back a chuckle as the eager house-elf led her through the front hall and deposited her in Harry's study before rushing off to find his master. Harry obviously hadn't made his unhappiness over the situation a secret. 

Setting the journal down on a nearby table, she walked over to Harry's desk. It was, at best, an organized chaos and there seemed to be a plethora of random bits of parchment, odd pieces of string, and dried up quills. Ginny smiled to herself, remembering how Harry never could bring himself to throw anything away–especially something a friend had given him. A glass jar sat in one corner and it was full of assorted rocks and marbles. Recalling how Bill's youngest son had already given her two rocks since arriving back in England, she wondered if Harry was keeping a jar full of "presents" the Weasley grandchildren bestowed upon him.

The desktop had only two pictures on it–one of Harry's parents in what looked like a wedding photo and one, gulp, of her. It had been taken her sixth year at Hogwart's outside by the lake and she was waving and winking every few minutes.

Wondering what was taking Harry so long; she walked back over to the door with the intent of opening it to call for Dobby but stopped when she heard urgent voices floating down the stairs. She pressed her ear to the door to get a better listen.

"What? Dobby why didn't you just say so! Merlin, what if she gets tired of waiting!" That was Harry and he sounded a bit rushed.

Ginny couldn't make out Dobby's response but it seemed to be full of remorse and she could hear Harry quickly soothing him. Their voices were getting louder and Ginny realized they were walking down the stairs. Not wanting to be caught listening at the door, she sprinted back over to the hearth and with a snap of her fingers, had a happy little fire dancing in the fireplace.

When Harry had stepped out of the shower to find Dobby waiting to tell him he had a visitor he didn't think much about it. He was expecting an official from the Ministry today and deciding they could wait until he got dressed, he hadn't rushed. When he walked out of the bedroom only to hear Dobby say that his visitor was Ginny, he had panicked and hurried down the steps.

He halted outside the closed door to the study to give himself a chance to calm his racing heart. Ginny was right there, beyond the door. What did she have to say? _Sod off? Never bother her again? Keep your perverted and smelly body out of my life?  
_  
Hoping it was none of those things, Harry reached for the doorknob, only to remember what had happened the last time he saw Ginny. She'd thrown him into the wall. He decided to err on the side of caution and opened the door slowly. He poked his head around, fully expecting to have to pull it back immediately to avoid a hex.

"Is it…uh…safe to come in?" He called out. He heard a quiet chuckle in response and, still keeping the majority of his body behind the door, swept the room with his eyes. There she was standing in front of the fire her eyes bright and laughing at him. She was, sigh, wearing those knee-high boots with jeans again but this time they were topped off with a chunky cable-knit turtleneck sweater. The sweater was green and did nothing to hide her figure.

"Afraid of me?" Ginny asked, her eyes twinkling.

"Are you kidding? Of course I'm afraid of you, I'm not completely daft," Harry said, opening the door fully and walking into the room.

"Er…you're not here to curse me again are you? Because I just got that chair repaired," he said, nodding his head towards the chair Ginny had set on fire last time.

Ginny flushed and hung her head. "I'm sorry Harry," she said, "I shouldn't have let my temper get out of hand like that. I'll pay for the damages."

Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you in the first place."

"You could have fought back you know," Ginny pointed out. "I'm curious, why did you let me throw all those spells at you? You didn't throw one spell back at me. You let me kick your arse when we both know you're very capable of beating me in a duel."

"It wasn't just spells you threw at me…don't forget about the fireballs," he said crossly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her. "I don't know, I guess I felt like I deserved whatever you dished out."

"You did," Ginny said.

"Ginny," Harry said, not wanting to beat around the bush anymore, "why are you here? I'm immensely glad to see you of course but-"

"I got the journal you sent," she interrupted, lifting her to look at him. "And I thought you might want it back." She nodded her head towards the journal she had placed on the table.

"I see," Harry said, clearing his throat. "So you're done with it then?"

Ginny smiled. "Yes, but I read it, don't worry. I just figured it wasn't something you wanted me to keep permanently."

Trying to quell his desperation to ask her what she had thought of it, Harry busied himself by taking the journal over to his desk and locking it back in its place in the bottom drawer.

Ginny tilted her head at him, "Aren't you going to ask me what I thought of it?"

"Well, I really want to," Harry almost laughed, "but I'm trying not to push you."

Walking slowly over to stand in front of him, Ginny said, "I thought it was amazing…parts of it were sad, parts of it were quite beautiful…and it," she swallowed and looked down at her boots, "…it made me feel beautiful," she finished in a low voice, so low he almost didn't catch it.

Harry reached out one finger and lifted her chin with it. "You _are_," he said hoarsely, looking into her eyes. "Incredibly beautiful. You were beautiful then and you're beautiful now. I've never seen anything more beautiful than you."

Ginny couldn't stop a sigh from escaping. He was saying all the right things and it was confusing her. They really needed to just talk. Backing away from him, she moved back over to the fireplace and tried to organize her thoughts. 

"Ginny," Harry began, "I know I've said this a million times already but I really can't tell you how sorry I am. You were absolutely right, I should have told you before you left that day how I felt."

"Let me ask you something Harry," Ginny said, sinking into a nearby armchair and propping her feet up on a footrest. "If you could go back and change what happened would you?"

"Not entirely," he said honestly, coming over to sit on the couch across from her. "I mean, I would change parts of it," he amended, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Which parts?"

"Well, I still would have wanted to protect you from Voldemort and you aren't going to change my mind about that. I suppose learning occulmency might have helped but there was no guarantee of it. I did the only thing I knew how to do. But looking back on it, I realized I overreacted to Malfoy's note. He was very angry with me and angry with you for killing his father and that made him desperate but Malfoy's bark has always been worse than his bite. He's a bit of a coward actually and I should have remembered that. Plus, you could have handled him by yourself."

"And as Ron so aptly pointed out to me," Harry added dryly, "Letting you leave didn't mean Malfoy wouldn't still go after you, it just meant we wouldn't be around to help you when he did. My only excuse is that I was so messed up from Voldemort. I had conditioned myself to protect you by keeping my feelings a secret that I just sort of panicked. Just when I thought it was safe, you know? I get this message that someone is going to come after just because of the way I felt about you. I freaked out."

"How did Malfoy find out? You never said," she asked.

"Do you remember that day I threw him up against the wall in the Great Hall? I was so mad at him and all my thoughts were of you. I think he must have done legilimency on me. I was looking directly into his eyes. Either that or he was a lot more observant than we gave him credit for."

"So why didn't you come to me when you realized you were overreacting?" she said, not being able to keep the sharpness out of her voice.

"Pride probably," he said, exhaling sharply. "I was too proud to admit I'd been making a mistake all those months and I was really scared of your reaction and scared a little bit I suppose, of my feelings for you. They were intense Ginny, you've no idea…well, you read the journal…"

Ginny nodded.

"I missed you so much it hurt," he said, now softly. "It was like a part of me was missing. And well…that scared me. That I could feel that much for someone."

"Why didn't you speak to me that day in Paris, when you saw me on the sidewalk?"

Harry sighed and leaned back onto the cushions, rubbing his hands over his face. "I guess…I guess I was still a little scared. Only that time I was scared of rejection. It had been so long and I was afraid you'd already moved on. And I was pretty sure you would be so angry with me that you wouldn't give me the time of day."

"That's something else I would change too," he said thoughtfully, now looking at the fire. "I should have had the bollocks to face you that day. Even if you had thrown me out at least I wouldn't have been lying to you anymore."

"But Ginny," he said, swinging his gaze back to her, "I can't change the past. I made some mistakes and I'm truly sorry for them. I'll probably make a lot more to be honest, but none of what I have done has ever changed the fact that I did it because I loved you so much. And if you decide that you can't forgive me for this then you need to tell me because otherwise I am going to spend the rest of your life asking for forgiveness."

He waited for her response, praying she would say something to give him just a little bit of hope.

"Oh Harry," Ginny finally sighed, looking down at her lap. "I just don't think I have it in me to hate you. Not after reading that journal."

She stood up and walked over to sit next to him, taking both of his hands in hers. "It was the best gift you gave me," she said solemnly. "And I won't forget the trust you must have in me to have let me read it. I do understand why you did what you did."

She broke off and looked down at their joined hands, watching as his right thumb made slow circles on her wrist.

Finding herself distracted again, she took her hands away and sat up straight. "But Harry, I also understand that you are a stupid noble git for thinking that you were doing what was best for me."

She clamped a hand over his mouth when he tried to respond, "No, let me finish," she insisted. "I know you had good intentions and I understand what is inside of you that wanted and needed me to be safe. But that was what was best for YOU. What would have been best for ME, was honesty about your feelings."

"I loved you so much and it would have been a dream come true to know that you felt the same way. I spent so much time berating myself and trying to talk myself out of loving you. When you didn't notice me, I felt…unworthy or something. And I spent a lot time dating pillocks in drastic attempts to forget you."

Harry winced, "Yeah, I remember the pillocks. I suppose you read what I had to say about them."

Ginny grinned at him, "It was pretty amusing. So were the descriptions of my…um…assets."

Harry blushed, shifting uncomfortably. "Well you can't blame a bloke for noticing things like that. Especially when you were wearing all those skintight dueling outfits-"

"The point is," Ginny interrupted, "that when I eventually decided to just accept my feelings for you, I nearly drowned in them. It was really hard to pick up the pieces and move on."

She titled her head at him again, "That's what makes me angrier than anything. All my struggling, my agonizing…it was work! And then, after years of it, I finally feel ready to face you again only to find that you really DID love me!"

Ginny took a deep breath. She was starting to get worked up again and she did not want to start another fight.

"Do you understand that Harry?" she said quietly, looking directly at him. "It feels like wasted time. All that time back at Hogwarts when I was pining for you, you were pining for me. I know it was hard for you too but the difference was that you knew…you KNEW how I felt about you and I had no idea how you felt for me. It would have made everything so much easier if you'd just said something."

Harry swallowed. "I know Ginny but I don't know what else to do to make it up to you. Tell what to do and I'll do it," he begged.

"I don't know if there is anything more _you_ can do."

Harry felt a lump rising in his throat. Did she mean it was over? Before it had even begun?

"So…where does that leave us?"

Ginny sighed again. "I wish I knew Harry," she said frustrated. "I really want to forgive you, to move on from this and," she stopped and looked at him searchingly, "maybe explore where this could go," she finished slowly.

Harry's heart soared. 

"But," she said quickly, "I'm having a really hard time with it. I understand why you did it. Truly I do, the journal really helped with that. It's just that it's hard to forget how much time you've caused us to waste. And how much time I spent getting over you–that feels like a bit of a waste now as well. It makes me feel like…"

"Like you aren't sure if you really are who you've spent the last four years trying to become?" he asked.

"Yeah," she breathed. "That's it exactly. How did you know?"

"Ginny," Harry said sternly, "How do you think I felt after killing Voldemort? I spent years training myself to be "the Chosen One," denying myself the one thing I knew would make me happy–that would be you by the way–only to throw him down to the ground like a muggle wrestler and blow the bastard's head off with a reducto curse. I could have just shot him in the beginning and saved us all a lot of grief. So you can imagine how it must have felt when it was all over. I felt like I had wasted a lot of time learning how to be the boy who killed Voldemort."

"Okay," Ginny nodded her head, "I can see that."

"But I eventually had to learn that it wasn't wasted time if that was how I had chosen to spend it. It was my choice to be trained, it was my choice to let that bloody prophecy rule my life and it was those choices that shaped me. So I was still the person I was before I killed him. And I didn't want to waste any more time drowning in ideas of what my life could have been like if things had been different. It was hard but eventually I just had to accept who I was–I could only control the rest of my life, not change the beginning."

He was silent. She appeared to be lost in thought, staring into the fire.

"Ginny, I know I wasted so much time we could have had together but I'm here now, asking you to forgive me. I don't want to waste anymore time. And I especially don't want you to waste time being mad at me for something I truly cannot change."

Ginny deflated, and leaned her head on his shoulder. She had been fighting her instincts to touch him and decided one moment of weakness couldn't hurt.

"I know Harry. And I promise I'll work on this. There are so many 'what ifs' running through my head you know?"

"I know, believe me, I know," he replied, automatically resting his head on top of hers (gods she smelled good). "I've run them all through my head a million times. Have you gotten to the one where we would be married with children by now?"

"Children?" Ginny said in a shocked voice, raising her head and trying to ignore the images of red and black-haired children with green eyes and freckles flashing through her head. "As in plural? Goddess Harry, I'm only 21, I'm not a machine."

"No," Harry said and gave her a lecherous look, "But I am."

"Git," she thumped him on the shoulder. "I'm not ready for sexual innuendos yet. You'll have to tone it down for a while."

"Sorry." Harry was instantly contrite. He didn't want to push her and he was trying to get the idea of where they might be headed out of his mind. "What are you ready for then?"

Ginny stared at him, her eyes searching his. He began to fidget under her gaze. "I'm ready for you to come to the Burrow for the Weekly Weasley Supper tonight," she said finally.

"Okay," Harry was surprised. He had planned on attending anyway–any chance to stalk Ginny. But he was glad she wouldn't run out of the room when he arrived.

"And then?" he asked hopefully.

"We'll see," she conceded, and stood up to leave.

It was enough. Trying not to breathe a huge sigh of relief that she was at least willing to spend time with him without cursing his bollocks off, Harry got up to walk her to the door.

When they reached the door, she turned around, opened her mouth to speak and hesitated.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's just that well..." she grimaced, coming to a decision. She reached up to cup his face in her hands.

"Harry," she said quietly, "It means so much to me that you would share your journal with me. The things you said in there, they were private and intimate and I feel special to be privy to them. I know why you did it and it took real guts to hand it over to me, especially after what I did to some of the other gifts."

Harry smiled, thinking of the various boxes of ashes she'd returned to him.

"It was the best thing you could have done," she admitted. "And it made a huge difference. It really helped me to understand where you were coming from, and I can't help but feel almost unworthy of the effort you went through to protect me. Nothing else could have touched me more."

Her eyes darkened and she reached up one hand to smooth back his fringe. Slowly, so slowly Harry wasn't sure she was actually moving, Ginny stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lightning bolt scar. Harry gasped in pleasure. It felt even better then he remembered–like she had just transferred an electrical current straight into him.

"No one ever kisses my scar except for you," he breathed, opening his eyes to see her stepping back from him.

"I'm glad," she said, the gold rim around her pupils starting to move, "I don't want anyone else to do it but me."

With a final smile, she turned around and opened the door, shutting it softly behind her.

Harry stood in the front hallway for a few minutes, staring at the closed door, his face breaking into a wide grin.

And in another part of the mansion, Dobby, who was polishing silverware in the dining room, jumped as a sudden "whoop" echoed from the front hallway.

Deciding she needed to organize her thoughts, Ginny apparated a good half mile away from the Burrow. She needed the walk to think about the conversation with Harry. It had felt good, she admitted to herself, to talk to him, to be able to tell him her frustrations about this whole mess without screaming at him. He had handled it exactly like she wanted him too. He hadn't pushed her, just explained his reasons and sincerely apologized for the things he was sorry for. He had even been completely honest with her about the things he didn't regret and although she might not agree with him, she could accept there were these certain aspects of his nature.

He could not apologize for being who he was anymore than she could.

And the way he had looked at her as she stepped back from kissing his scar. Merlin, it had been all she could do to stop herself from slipping back up to him and letting him wrap those arms around her.

She sighed, remembering what it felt like to be held by him. Even back at Hogwarts when he had bestowed occasional hugs on her–usually when no one else was around–it had always felt so good, so safe, like nothing would ever hurt her…

That's _it_, she told herself firmly, they were _going_ to get past this. _She_ was going to get past this. And then they were going to do all the holding they wanted. She wasn't an idiot, she knew he wanted her and she wanted him. There was no point in denying it. The desire between them had practically sizzled in the air when she had kissed his scar. It had been a swift shot of electricity through her veins and the level of magic in the room had risen considerably.

But how to do it? She pondered. She wanted to move on but couldn't completely tamp down the warrior inside of her raging for another fight.

An idea popped into Ginny's head like a light being turned on and she felt herself break into a large grin. That was it, that was exactly what they needed. Just the thing to clear the air. Was it silly? Yes. Was it petty? Yes.

Would it make both of them, especially her, feel better? Definitely.

Friday night Weasley suppers began precisely at 6 p.m. so Harry made sure to apparate to the Burrow's front porch at exactly 5:45 p.m. It was important to get a good seat at these things. Get stuck with a seat next to Fred or George and you'd wind up as an animal for the rest of the meal. 

Without knocking–Molly always insisted he didn't need to knock–he walked in the front door, expecting to be welcomed with shouts of greeting. Nothing. The house seemed deserted. Where was everyone?

He walked into the kitchen. The table was set, pots on the stove bubbling merrily away, but no one was there. Deciding they must be outside, Harry moved towards the door but was stopped by a voice behind him.

"Going somewhere Harry?"

Harry spun around to see Ginny leaning against the entrance to the kitchen. His eyes traveled slowly down her body and he had to force himself to breathe. She was wearing one of those dueling outfits that had tortured him so long ago at Hogwarts.

Tight black pants with various pockets and zippers along the sides were tucked in at the ankles to what looked like thick-soled dragon hide boots. Hmm…the dragon boots were a new addition. But the top, Harry gulped…the top he remembered. Stretchy cotton clung to her like a second skin, the black fabric outlining her breasts but moving up over them to spread into a wide collar that exposed her graceful neck. Harry immediately recalled numerous dreams he had at Hogwarts that involved him throwing down his wand and attaching himself to that neck during a duel. The sleeves hugged her arms and went down to just past her elbows.

Harry sighed inwardly, it had always seemed like the tops Ginny favored for dueling had been poured over her and now that she was older and curvier, he was sure that was exactly how she put them on.

"Like what you see?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he could see the blush that was traveling up her neck, despite her feigned nonchalance at his staring.

Sanity be damned, Harry chose to answer with a resounding, "Yes!"

Ginny smirked at him and pushed herself from the doorway with a thrust of a black-clad hip. Crossing her arms across her chest, she took a few steps closer to Harry.

"I've got a proposition for you Potter," she challenged.

Harry was sure he did not like the mischievous look on Ginny's face. That look usually got him into trouble–like the time Ginny had talked him into playing a prank on Snape that gave him breasts for a whole day.

"Okay," he said carefully. "Let's hear it."

"Well," Ginny said, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "I thought a good old fashioned duel was in order."

And suddenly Harry understood. She didn't have to elaborate. Duels had been sacred between them. They had sworn an oath when they started training together they would take the duels and their magic seriously. They were learning to fight deatheaters and there was no room for silliness or friendship to get in the way. They had pushed each other and themselves to new limits, fighting to be worthy of the power magic had given them. It hadn't been easy and they had physically hurt each other more than once. 

But it had been more than that. Ginny had always made him promise that he would treat her equally when they were dueling. She didn't want any special treatment from him, she insisted and it was the only way she could learn. It had been difficult for him to throw his full power at her and he had hurt her more than once. In the beginning, he had knocked her out so many times he couldn't help wincing every time he did it. It had made her work harder and soon, she was winning some of the duels. Their friends thought they were too hard on each other but Harry and Ginny had understood, without saying, that the duels represented their respect for each other and their friendship. They were equals–in everything. Even though Harry had possessed more raw magical power than Ginny, she more than made up for it with her speed and creativity.

By asking for a duel now, Harry knew Ginny wanted him to prove that he still respected her power, that he had never stopped respecting her, despite his secret protection of her, and that they would be equals again.

It meant, he thought with a sigh of relief, they were going to be okay. They had never formally dueled one another in anger and this was a sign she wasn't that mad at him anymore.

Of course, Ginny's powers had increased so this was probably really going to hurt.

It was also going to be tremendously fun, he thought, a slow grin spreading over his face. He had learned a few new things that might surprise the cocky fire goddess in front of him.

"All right Weasley, you're on. What are the stakes? I'm assuming you want a bet."

That was something else that was sacred. Loser always had to give something up.

"The stakes are," Ginny said, her eyes lighting up with anticipation, "If I win, you will tell me all about those little 'consulting' jobs you do for the ministry."

Harry frowned, "Ginny, some of that is classified information."

"I know," she smirked. "But those are the stakes; take 'em or leave 'em."

"And if I win?"

She titled her head at him, "I'll forgive you for being an arse."

"You will?" Harry was stunned. "Just like that? You'll forgive everything?"

"Just like that," she confirmed. "And I'll even publicly announce it to the family."

"Well then Nix," Harry said in a suddenly husky voice, stepping close to her and leaning in to speak directly into the shell of her ear, "I will definitely be winning."

His warm breath caressed the skin on her neck and ear and Ginny couldn't help the shiver that ran through her. "Don't be so sure," she managed. "I've learned a thing or two since Hogwarts."

"Oh so have I Phoenix," he murmured, moving his lips so close to her ear he was almost touching it, "so have I."

"Shall we shake on it then?" Ginny breathed. She was trying not to think about how much she wanted him to just bring his lips a little bit closer...

"Isn't there anything else we could do?" Harry said, lifting his head from the crook of her neck, his eyes moving to her lips.

"No, I think a handshake will be just fine," Ginny said firmly, trying to get herself under control. This was ridiculous, he hadn't even touched her and she was practically melting on the spot. She stepped back and stuck her hand out.

Harry shook it slowly trying not to grin. He had felt the increase of magic in the room and he knew what he was doing to her. She wouldn't fight her feelings much longer and he intended to tempt her every step of the way. She still had feelings for him, he could feel the magic inside of her stretching out for his own.

Their union was practically dictated by science.

When Harry and Ginny stepped out of the kitchen with broad smiles on their faces, Arthur knew Harry had agreed to Ginny's insane idea of a duel. They were both crazy, most of all his daughter who had decided she would forgive Harry if he beat her. Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. What was wrong with those two? They had spent the last month arguing over the past only to settle it with a magical duel. It was…okay, it was exactly something Harry and Ginny would do, he conceded. The magic they threw at each other during duels had only ever strengthened their friendship and even though he had never understood it, Arthur could tell they were both happy with this solution.

Ron and Hermione knew exactly why Ginny had proposed this solution. Harry and Ginny had taken their dueling very seriously and it had built up a trust in each other that had saved their friends and family's lives on more than one occasion before the end of Voldemort. That trust had been broken but the fact that Ginny was asking for a duel meant she was ready to start again.

Ginny led Harry over to the clearing she had selected earlier this afternoon. The rest of the family followed in high spirits, glad Harry and Ginny were at least speaking again. Fred and George were taking bets and had given favorable odds to their sister who, they pointed out, had righteous anger on her side.

"No," Hermione insisted, betting five galleons on Harry to win. "Ginny and Harry never dueled when they were angry with each other. They swore they wouldn't. It was too dangerous. She wouldn't be fighting him if she were still angry with him. And Harry has got more to lose, it will make him tough to beat."

"Well Ginny was angry the other day when she handed him his arse on a platter," Angelina said. "She dueled him then."

"Harry didn't fight back," Hermione pointed out. "It wasn't really a duel. Ginny was the only one throwing spells."

"And balls of fire," Fred said, a dreamy look coming over his face. "I've never been so proud of our ickle Gin-Gin. I can't wait to see it."

Once they reached the clearing, Harry and Ginny walked several steps away from each other and turned to face their opponent.

"Rules Weasley?" Harry called out, taking off his jacket and tossing it to the ground. He would need the freedom of movement. Luckily he had worn trainers and jeans to dinner this evening. He pulled his jumper over his head, exposing a tight undershirt.

Ginny's eyes flared at the way the undershirt exposed the muscles in Harry's chest and upper arms. "You know the rules Potter! There aren't any!" she called back.

"Well then," he drawled. "This will be incredibly easy won't it? I'll just dump a bucket of water over your head and put that fire out."

"You won't even have time to conjure one up scarface," she tossed back.

"I don't need to conjure one," he smiled evilly at her. "Conjuring is for less…powerful wizards. But then I guess you'd know about that."

"What are they doing?" Molly whispered, as Harry and Ginny traded insults back and forth. "Why are they being so mean to each other?"

"They did this back at Hogwarts too," Ron explained to his mother, not taking his eyes off his best friend and his sister. "It winds them up so they can throw magic at each other. Harry told me once that it was the only way they could stand to hurt one another; if they were irritated first."

"Are…are they going to hurt each other?" Molly asked. "Like really hurting each other? Are we going to spend the rest of the night in St. Mungo's?"

"They won't kill each other," Ron said, "But yes, they are going to hurt each other. Hermione spent our entire seventh year at Hogwarts practicing healing spells just those two idiots wouldn't spend so much time in the hospital ward."

"But how can they do that?" Molly asked, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "They're supposed to be making up not finding more reasons to be angry with each other!"

"Mum," George said soothingly. "You've never seen Harry and Ginny duel have you? This is what they do and they don't take it personally. They fight and then move on. They can keep it separate. It's strictly business."

"He's right," Alicia agreed. "The first time I saw them I thought they would never be friends again. But Harry just woke Ginny up and she congratulated him for winning. It was bizarre."

"Not bizarre," Remus said. "It was necessary."

Several pairs of eyes turned towards him. "I mean," he said, rolling his eyes, "they were learning how to fight deatheaters weren't they? They couldn't hold back when they knew the deatheaters wouldn't. It only made them respect the other more, it made them equal."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement but Molly looked skeptical.

"Never mind mum," Fred said, shrugging his shoulders. "You'll see."

Harry and Ginny stood several feet away from each, completely still except for their mouths which were moving faster as the level of insults and barbs increased. It was important to remain still as any flinch or hint of movement would signal the beginning of the duel.

Ginny usually lost patience first.

"I'm just pointing out Harry that I do not plan to lose, so you might as well make a move and get your humiliation over with," Ginny said, her eyes narrowing. A sudden breeze sprang up, lifting Harry's fringe off his forehead. 

"Temper, temper Phoenix," he warned. "Don't start it unless you're ready for it."

"Are you ready to be beaten?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Yep, give me a moment." He closed his eyes, drawing on his magical energy, letting it spread throughout him, filling him up. His eyes flew open; they were bright green and seemed to glow with the rest of him. The air shook with power.

Ginny closed her eyes as well and the golden light Harry had witnessed a few weeks ago returned, spreading over her body. Her eyes turned golden and the power sizzled on her exposed skin.

"Is that supposed to scare me Potter?" Ginny called tauntingly. A bolt of lightning cracked down from the sky, striking the ground right in front of Harry. "Now bloody come on! Show me what you got in there."

"I know you really do want to see what I've got in here," He replied with a leer. He stretched out a tendril of magic towards her, putting six years of denied sexual passion for her behind it.

Ginny groaned as the desire-charged magic hit her and she couldn't stop the fire inside of her from roaring in response. "Okay," she said shakily, her eyes rolling back in her head as she fought the buckling in her knees, "new rule. That's not allowed."

"Agreed," Harry gasped, and he pulled the magic back, shaken himself. She had responded almost involuntarily and he was amazed at the quickness of her magic's response to him. His lips stretched into a grin–the fire in Ginny obviously recognized the energy of the earth inside of him.

The Weasley family held their breath. The rising energy in the air was palatable and a little frightening. Sensing the duel was about to start, Bill and Ron nodded to each other and pulled their wands out to cast shield charms over the family.

Suddenly, before they could blink again, Harry and Ginny acted, springing towards each other with spells flying and magic sparking. They almost met mid air as Harry lunged towards Ginny while she leaped in the air to avoid the incoming spells. It was a magical jump and she rose high up in the air, firing an unknown hex back at him as she came back down. She scored a direct hit but was forced to hit the ground rolling as Harry fired back at her, barely flinching as a cut appeared on his shoulder.

The fight was on and they did not stop to taunt each other again. Harry had a fierce look on his face and he was throwing spells at Ginny so fast, she barely had time to react. She held her right hand out and carried her wand in her left, shooting spells out of both as she dodged and leapt over the spells flying towards her.

After a particularly well-aimed diffendo curse flew within inches of Ginny, causing her to bend completely backwards in order to avoid it, she straightened up and shouted, "That's it!"

Throwing aside her wand, Ginny flung out a hand, and a stream of fire flew towards Harry with a vengeance. Harry dived to the side and rolled, coming up again on his feet. He narrowed his eyes at her and her arms were thrown out to the side, leaving her wide open for retaliation.

Quickly realizing her predicament, Ginny narrowed her own eyes and a stream of lightning bolts shot down from the sky distracting Harry as she fought his magical hold. Once free, she spun away to avoid the four spinning tornadoes of earth Harry had just summoned from the ground and sent swirling towards her.

She finished her fluid dance around the twisters and replied with a curse of her own.  
Harry snarled as he absorbed it, his shield being pushed to its limit. 

Molly couldn't stop her mouth from dropping open as she stared at her daughter and her adopted son trying to kill each other. Ginny and Harry were moving so quickly it was nearly impossible to keep track of what spells they were using. Fire was dancing around Ginny and she often reached into the flames to pull out a ball of fire and chuck it at Harry who tried to shoot it out of the air with a squirt of water from his hand. He was only successful half of the time and his white t-shirt and jeans were covered in singe marks.

Thick vines sprung out of the ground, trying to capture Ginny's legs and arms and those she couldn't avoid were burnt off as soon as they wrapped themselves around her body. Harry waved a hand, commanding the tree branches to stretch out for her hoping she wouldn't want to burn down one of her parent's trees but she set them on fire without stopping.

Ginny kept up a steady stream of fireballs hurling towards him and he drew big piles of dirt out of the earth and conjured huge slabs of rock in front of him to absorb the impact.

Tonks was amazed. They had improved since the last time she caught a duel between them. Of course they had both been impressive when Voldemort marched on Hogwarts, but she had never seen anything like this–even at the Auror Training Academy. Harry was moving so fast he was a shining blur. Ginny was dodging spells, and hurling hexes and fireballs with an elegance that was almost hypnotic.

Ginny hissed as a stinging hex her in the arm and she felt the brush of a cutting spell across her cheek as she moved to avoid Harry's onslaught. She waved a hand at him and a wall of fire sprung up around him, cutting him off from her view.

Harry merely apparated out of it, appearing behind her and raised his hand to throw a stunning spell at her. She was too quick for him though and as soon as she had heard the pop of apparition behind her, she apparated away herself, and stood facing him again on the other side of the clearing. They paused, panting at each other.

"This is new," he gasped, not taking his eyes off her.

"Yeah, we couldn't apparate in Hogwarts," she agreed, staring at him. They grinned at each other and Ginny tossed another fireball at him that he, in a display of power that shocked her, caught in his hand and immediately doused with water.

"And that Miss Weasley," he sneered at her, "is exactly why you need me. I am the only one who can challenge you."

Ginny simply shot a fire rope at him and lassoed his arms to his sides. Smirking, she pulled the rope in until he was standing in front of her, jaw clenched as he struggled to get free.

Leaning close, she ran her tongue up his right cheek, curling it up at the tip as she reached the cheekbone. "And that," she said huskily, her eyes flicking pointedly down to his crotch where the reaction to her tongue on his skin was obvious, "is exactly why you need me." She swept her leg behind his ankles, and pushed him to the ground, planting her foot in the middle of his chest.

"Yield," she growled.

In answer, a geyser of water erupted from the nearby lake and formed itself into a tendril of swirling liquid. It raced towards Ginny, coming up behind her and forming its tip into what looked suspiciously like a finger. It reached out and tapped her on the shoulder. Startled, Ginny turned around and was met with a blast of water that knocked her to the ground and she tumbled over, trying to right herself. The water flowed over Harry, drenching the fire rope and he spun to his side, arm outstretched to fire a stunner towards her. Coming to a halt on her bum, Ginny had thrown out a hand at the same time, the fire on her skin turning the water into steam and fired off her own spell.

In a gigantic twist of irony, both spells hit their mark and Harry and Ginny fell back on the ground, stunned.

Silence rang in the air. The wind died down and the tendril of water was sucked back into the lake. Ron and Bill tentatively cancelled the shield charms protecting the family and everyone stared at the two motionless figures on the ground.

"Quick George, quick!" Fred finally burst out. "Which one of them hit the ground first?!"

"I don't know, it's too close to call," his twin answered frustrated with the turn of events.

His reply was met with a large outcry, as opinions of who had won the match seemed to divide along male-female lines. The females were solidly behind Ginny while the male firmly insisted Harry had gotten off his stunner first.

"What we need is a pensieve," Fred said glumly. "It's the only way to decide."

"Right," Bill said, pulling out his wand. "I've got one. Charlie lets go."

"Hang on!" Natalia cried. "You won't be fair! You'll say Harry won it!"

Protests rang out and another argument began until Arthur threatened to wake Harry and Ginny up and force them to duel the lot unless they settled down.

"Now," he said, squaring his shoulders, "If you can stop the insanely childish display of competition, Molly and I will go with Bill and view the memory. We alone will be the judges and I assure you, we'll be the most impartial out of any of you."

Reluctantly agreeing to let their parents make the decision, the grumbles died down and the Weasley's started back towards the house. Ron took out his wand and walked towards Harry's motionless body.

"C'mon Hermione," he called over his shoulder, "Let's wake 'em up." Hermione rushed to ennerverate Ginny while Ron did the same for Harry. 

Harry's eyes flew open and still lying on the ground he asked, "Who won?"

"No idea mate," Ron grinned at him. "We're going to bring in Bill's pensieve. Mum and Dad went along to be the judges."

Harry heard a groan to his left and rolled his head over to watch Ginny sit up, holding a hand to her head.

"All right there Phoenix?" he called.

"No," she said crossly. "I think your bloody stunner hit me right in the head."

"Well I think you bruised my ribs earlier with that punching hex," he winced, putting a hand to the tender area on his rib cage. "Hermione, could you-"

But Hermione already had out her wand and was moving towards him. She muttered a spell under her breath and a stream of blue light shot from her wand and washed over Harry's torso.

Harry relaxed. "Thanks 'Mione."

Hermione smiled fondly at him. "Feels like old times doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he smiled back at her.

"You mean like the times when I kicked your arse Potter?" Ginny asked, flopping back down on the ground, still holding a hand to her head. "'Mione," she moaned. Hermione tutted sympathetically and tapped her wand on Ginny's head to clear her headache.

"Not a chance Weasley. I got my stunner off first," Harry retorted.

"Yeah right-" but Ginny was cut off by Hermione.

"Actually I think it was too close to call. It's going to be a draw. I don't think they're going to be able to tell even with the pensieve."

"A draw," Harry repeated slowly. "So, if it's a draw then…"

"We both get what we wanted," Ginny finished for him, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him. "I forgive you and you have to tell me about your job."

"And do we…get anything else?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

Ginny's eyes darkened but before she could reply, Ron straightened abruptly and shoved his wand in his pocket.

"Right," he said. "Let's go Hermione. I don't want my unborn children to hear this. I suggest you don't look back either, it might scar you for life."

Hermione giggled and took his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her away from Harry and Ginny. "I think it's sweet," she said dreamily.

"Sweet? Hermione, that is my baby sister and my best friend. It isn't sweet–it's disgusting. In fact, I'm going to need you to memory charm me later to get the image of the look on their faces out of my head."

Ginny giggled, her eyes following Ron and Hermione as they argued, their voices fading off in the distance. Her eyes moved back to meet Harry's. His eyes were bright green and staring at her intensely. Ginny could feel the magic in the air start to sizzle. The power inside of her stretched as if awakening from a long nap. She knew it was too soon but she couldn't stop, she didn't _want_ to stop. She had been denying herself this for 10 years.

Slowly, she got to her hands and knees and crawled on all fours towards Harry who remained motionless on the ground, watching her. When she reached him, she slowly settled her body on top of his, stretching out so their bodies were molded against one another. Their hips met, her legs on his legs, her stomach on his stomach and her chest on his. Harry's breath quickened and he kept still, his arms rigid by his sides.

Ginny kept her eye contact with him as she moved her hands up to his shoulders and used them as leverage to slide herself up his body until her face was hovering directly over his.

Harry couldn't stop the groan that escaped him. She felt tiny against him and now that their heads were flush with each other, her feet only came down to the middle of his calves. He fought the urge inside of him to roll her over and curl himself protectively around her small body. He was afraid to touch her, worried not only that she might disappear but also that once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop.

Ginny's skin tingled from the friction of her movement against Harry. She swallowed heavily as she looked into his eyes. There was so much swirling inside them. Desire mixed with fear that he might wake up to find this a dream and yes, there it was--the rigid control he was always maintaining over the raw and powerful energy inside of him. She put her small hands on either side of his face and slid them up his cheekbones and temples into his hair. Gods she had always loved his hair, she thought, biting her lip to stop a sigh from escaping.

"You know that I am going to need some time to trust you," she said finally, still looking into his eyes. "I do forgive you and I even understand why you did this but…the trust…I can't just make that reappear."

" I know," he said, quietly. "And I promise that I will never give you another reason not to trust me again."

They were silent for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. Ginny couldn't stop herself from running her fingers through Harry's hair. Relaxing a bit, his hands came tentatively up to rest on either side of her slim waist, squeezing her gently to him. When his hands touched her, Ginny gasped at the warmth that shot through her. His fingers found a spot along her waist where the shirt had been pulled out of her pants and he immediately became obsessed with the feeling of her warm skin as he caressed the exposed area with his thumb.

"Harry," she said shakily, the fire inside of her roaring at the tingling of his bare skin on her hers, "you have to stop that. I'm not sure I can control it…"

Harry smiled at her amusedly. "Just from this one spot?" he asked, immediately removing his thumb from where it had slipped inside her shirt.

"Yes," she ground out. "And wipe that smug look off your face."

But Harry couldn't help it. He could feel the magic rising in the air and knew it wasn't just his own. "Then how on earth I am going to kiss you if you can't control yourself? You're likely to set me on fire."

"Shut it Potter," she said, fighting a smile. "Don't think I can't tell that I have already set you on fire."

"Yes, you have," his face suddenly turning serious. "Ginny, we need to talk about this…"

"I know," she said, taking a deep breath and she moved to push herself off of him but his hands kept her pinned in place.

"Let's talk this way," he said softly. "We'll talk fast."

"Okay," she agreed, settling back down on him. "But hands to yourself." 

Harry chuckled at her. Merlin, he loved her. He took a deep breath himself, calming the magic inside of him that sensed she was so close.

"Harry, I think we should take this slow," Ginny said abruptly. "It's been four years since we've spent any real time together–there are all sorts of things we don't know about each other."

Harry titled his head a little. "Well," he said slowly, "I think we already know the important things about each other. But I agree, we should start from the beginning." He paused and then couldn't stop himself from adding, "As long as you and everyone else know that you are mine."

Ginny bit her lip. "That doesn't sound like taking it slow. That sounds pretty possessive."

"I don't care," he replied honestly. "I've wanted this for six years and I'm not going to be able to handle other men asking you out or touching you. I know it's possessive but I need you to promise me this. We're both compromising here."

"What are you compromising on?" she asked, not even bothering to stop the thrill that ran through her with the selfish tone in his voice. He was being selfish of _her_.

"You wanted to go slow," he pointed out, "so I'm restraining myself from rolling you over and running my tongue up and down your bare back."

Ginny blushed but she couldn't help smirking at him. Goddess, he was gorgeous. How had she ever lived without him? Being with him like this felt so right, so natural. It ought to feel odd, she thought wildly, they had been apart for so long and they had just finished a huge row but she couldn't help herself.

The empty space inside of her that had existed since she first saw him on the platform at the Hogwart's Express all those years ago was beginning to fill up. She had always felt they were meant to be and now, laying here with him, despite everything that had happened, she knew she had been right along.

"Harry," she said solemnly, her gaze flicking between his eyes and lips. "I am going to kiss you now."

"Please do," he said, his voice turning husky. "I've been waiting for you to shut up for hours."

"Git," she said, thumping him with a closed fist on the shoulder.

"Ginny," he said, "I'm not into violent kissing-"

But his words were cut off when Ginny pressed her lips to his. It wasn't hard and fast like the last kiss but a soft, slow exploration of his mouth. She moved her mouth against his slowly, savoring and nibbling his bottom lip between hers. Her hands moved up to his cheeks and she ran her fingers back and forth across his jaw line, caressing his skin. She felt so good, Harry thought, that perhaps he was floating. He lost himself in the sensation of her mouth moving over his lips, allowing her to lead the kiss. He couldn't stop himself from moaning when she slipped her tongue into his mouth. Her tongue slid past his teeth and ran slowly up his tongue, flicking up to explore the roof of his mouth. He moved his own tongue to meet hers and when they tangled together, she pressed harder into him, deepening the kiss.

Harry suddenly noticed something wet on his face and he pulled away, surprised to see her crying. She lifted her head from his and he saw the tears on her face and his heart broke.

"Don't cry Phoenix," he whispered, cupping her face in his hands and lifting his head slightly to touch his forehead to hers, "Don't cry."

Ginny whimpered and reached her hands up to grasp his wrists with her hands as his thumbs moved over her cheeks, wiping away her tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"What is it?" he asked her quietly.

"It's just that…I've been dreaming of this moment since I was 10 years old and I didn't think it would ever come true. I spent so much of my life trying not to dream about this moment." She sighed and closed her eyes. "Dreams don't usually come true for me Harry."

"They will now," he whispered fervently, gripping her face. "I promise I'll make them all come true for you."

"It almost doesn't feel real," she said honestly. "Like we're both going to wake up any minute now."

"I know baby, I know." He couldn't stop the endearment from slipping out but he didn't think she even noticed as she leaned her head down to nuzzle her nose next to his, still keeping her eyes closed.

"Harry," she breathed, her warm breath fanning over his face.

With another groan, Harry bent his knee, pushing himself off the ground with his right leg and rolled her over onto her back. Her arms came around his shoulders and her legs parted automatically–his hips coming down to nestle in the cradle of her thighs. He was so hard, it was painful but his only concern at the moment was to convince her this was real, to show her how he felt about her.

Harry slid his hands down her sides and gripped her waist. He nuzzled his face into her neck and breathed deeply, inhaling her scent and trying to move past the lump in his throat that had appeared when he saw her crying.

He had to say it, he had to tell her and he might explode if he didn't. He had waited so long to be able to say these words to her and even though he knew it was too soon he couldn't stop himself.

He moved his lips up to her ear left ear and brushing his lips against the lobe, he murmured, "I need you to believe this is real Nix. Because it is. Completely real. I'm here and you're here and we are never going to be apart again. I mean it Gin, this is it. So we can go slow and we can start at the beginning if you want _but I'm for you and you're for me_ and we both know it. We've got all the time in the world to figure the rest of this out. I am never going to leave you and if you ever leave me I'll follow you wherever you go. Please, you have to believe me," he couldn't stop the sob that escaped him.

"Okay," she soothed, running her fingers through his hair. "Okay, I believe it. I promise. I won't ever leave you, never. Wild hippogriffs couldn't drag me away."

He chuckled softly into her ear. "I love you." The words escaped from his lips before he could stop them. "I have for a long time and I'm sorry I never told you. But I do, I really do. I love you with everything that is inside of me."

Ginny shut her eyes and let his words wash over her. She knew they weren't taking this very slow but she had been fighting her feelings for so long and it felt so good to hear him say that.

"Say it again," she whispered, her eyes still shut.

"I love you," he vowed, kissing the spot below her ear. She shivered.

"Again."

"I love you, more than-"

"Again," she interrupted. "Say it over and over again. Please."

So he did. He rained soft kisses on her lips, her face, her eyes, along the column of her throat and told her he loved her after each kiss. She started to cry again and he kissed the tears away, repeating it over and over again. The magic inside of him strained to be released and he trembled with the effort to control himself as he placed kisses along her collarbone.

"Harry," she said shakily. "I can't…I need…"

"What baby, what do you need?" He asked, moving his kisses up her throat and over her jaw stopping to hover his lips just over her mouth. He could feel her body heating up and she was panting with short breaths. She opened her eyes and met his. The pupils were flashing back and forth between brown and gold as if she was willing them not to change colors.

"Please Harry," she gasped, "I can't stop it." And with a roar only she could hear but that he could sense, the magic inside of her swelled up, reaching out for his. He couldn't stop his own magic from answering her silent call and let go of the tenuous hold he had on his power. They both gasped as the magic met and their auras sprang into life around them, combining and swirling together over their entwined bodies.

All thoughts of being gentle with her fled from Harry's mind as he felt their magic merge. She cried out when she felt his power wash over her and he captured the sound with his mouth, slanting it over hers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. She pressed into his mouth just as hard and fisted her hands in his hair as she held him to her. Merlin he tasted good. Like earth and peppermint.

His mouth moved over her savagely. She tasted like fire and he could feel the power inside of her running through him, over him, around him–like sizzling fingers moving over his body. She bent her knees and gripped his hips with her thighs, pressing her pelvis into his, cradling his erection in the heat at the center of her. He groaned at the action and couldn't stop himself from grinding his arousal against her. Gods, that friction felt good. They were getting out of control, he thought distractedly, but the power moving over them meshed them together and his sanity was lost as she responded to the movements of his hips and they rocked together.

He tore his mouth from her lips and immediately moved to her neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth. Her hands frantically pulled up the back of his shirt and slid up his bare flesh, tracing his spine and muscles, branding him with the heat rolling off of her.

Ginny was lost. The energy inside of him moved through her like a current and it awakened every inch that it touched. She no longer cared that they were within sight of the Burrow, that her family could probably see them or that he had spent the last six years lying to her. All she cared about was him and how he could make her feel.

Harry lifted himself up from her for a moment to pull his shirt over his head and her hands followed his progress running down his sides and up his chest to trace the muscles she found there. Her hands moved down his abdomen towards the waist of his jeans and his stomach tightened as she scratched her fingers through the hair on his lower belly. Still propped up on his forearms, he looked down at her to find her staring back at him through half-lidded eyes darkened in passion. Her lips were swollen and bruised from their kissing and her hair had fallen out of her ponytail as she had twisted and tilted her head to give him better access to her skin.

Forcing himself to calm down before he caused an earthquake, he took one of the wandering hands now tracing the waistline of his jeans and brought it to his mouth pressing a kiss against her palm.

She kept the hand on his face and brought his head down to meet hers. She kissed him gently and when he pulled back he said, "I love you Ginny. I really do."

"I know," she said softly, their combined auras still swirling around them. She slid a hand into his fringe and pulled it back from his forehead.

She lifted her face to his, looked him the eyes and said, "I will never, ever love anyone the way that I love you," before kissing his scar.

The world exploded. They gasped in unison and their magic swirled faster as they felt it reach out into the world around them. Flowers sprung up from the earth and leaves bloomed on the bare trees around them. The waves in the nearby lake swelled. Flames burst over their bodies and lightning cracked through the sky.

"Harry," Ginny gasped, arching towards him "I can't stop, I can't control it."

Too busy trying to get his own power under control, Harry couldn't answer her. "Calm down, calm down," he chanted, "We have to calm down."

Forcing herself to breath deeply, Ginny tried to pull the power she had poured into Harry back inside of her. It almost hurt, like someone was stretching her on a rack. Harry cried out feeling the loss of the magic that was so tightly entwined with his and Ginny stopped, grateful for the temporary relief when the pain ended.

"Okay," she panted, "We've got to pull back slowly. It's going to feel like someone is pulling us apart but we've got to do it. We can control this. We'll do it together, it's the only way."

"Okay," he gasped. "But we are definitely doing this again when we learn to control it."

"Deal," she said.

Ginny centered power and visualized herself winding up the threads of power she had intertwined with Harry's. It felt wrenching and she knew Harry felt it too when he bent his head to her shoulder and took deep breaths.

Harry was slowly pulling his energy back into his body. Their magic was merged so tightly it almost felt like he was removing part of it. It didn't hurt exactly but there was an incredible pulling sensation that was not at all comfortable. Slowly the power receded back into him.

The flames around them died down until they were both left panting with the effort. Harry collapsed on top of Ginny and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in his neck.

"I'm sorry," she managed, "I just couldn't stop it. It's never gotten out of control like that before."

Harry just breathed deeply, taking the scent of her inside of him and letting the peace of finally being with her wash over him. "It wasn't your fault," he said finally. "I couldn't control it either."

"Well I am never going to kiss your scar again," she said, the racing in her heart subsiding. "Not if it has that effect."

"Hey!" Harry protested, lifting his head from her skin. "That was a great affect. Look around you, how many other blokes give their women this many flowers?"

Ginny softened and caressed his cheek. "Your woman," she repeated, smiling up at him. "That sounds nice."

"It really does," he said, dipping his head down to kiss the tip of her nose. "And you are. You're my woman. I have never wanted anyone else but you to be my woman."

He kissed her again and she sighed into his mouth. Ending the kiss, he rolled off her and lay beside her, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. He rested his head on his folded arm and studied her profile.

"Is this okay?" He asked quietly. "Are you okay with all of this? I'm sorry things got so out of hand."

"It's alright Harry," she smiled brightly. She placed a hand on the arm encircling her waist. "It was wonderful to share that with you and I'm not going to cheapen it by labeling it as too soon."

"There will be more than this one day, you know that right?" he asked. He wanted to make it clear where he wanted this to go. He wouldn't be able to last very much longer without making love to her.

Ginny turned her head to face him and rubbed her nose along side his. "I know Harry. And it's going to be wonderful. I think we'll know when the time is right. Don't worry."

"The only thing I'm worried about is making sure we don't start a natural disaster when we do," he said.

"Yeah what is that all about?" Ginny said, rolling completely on her side to face him. "Why does that happen every time we kiss?"

"I have theories but they're only that. I think when we share magic the power is too great and it manifests itself in other ways. We should probably ask Lupin and Hermione about it," he finished thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah, just the conversation I want to have with a former professor," Ginny said rolling her eyes. "Hey Moony, when Harry and I snog it causes spontaneous fires and earthquakes. Shall we demonstrate?"

Harry winced. "I hadn't thought about having to demonstrate. Maybe we could work on controlling the power levels by ourselves first. We both had to do that at Hogwarts."

"Okay," Ginny said doubtfully. "But if I burn things down I'm holding you responsible."

Harry smiled at her and pulled her closer to him, their lips almost touching. "Well," he breathed, "it is certainly going to be fun trying."

Ginny giggled, refusing to move the last centimeter and touch her lips to his. "I love you," she said suddenly, her eyes lifting from his mouth to look at his.

"I know Ginny," he whispered hoarsely, suddenly overcome with how fantastic it felt to finally share this with her. "I've always known."

Ginny smiled and moved the last centimeter without being asked.

Fred and George pounced on their parents when they walked back into the Burrow after viewing the pensieve at Bill and Fleur's house.

"Well?" George demanded. "Who was it?"

Arthur sighed and removed his cloak. "Sorry boys, it was too close to call, we're going to have to call it draw." He ignored the groans around him and took a seat at the dinner table next to Hermione who had a quizzical look on her face.

Arthur grinned and leaned forward. "Actually," he said in a low voice, "Harry won by less than half a second. We had to replay it five times to be sure. But we decided not to tell him. He did lie to Ginny for six years after all."

Hermione covered a laugh with her hand as her father-in-law sat back in his chair and winked at her.

"Oi," Ron said. "Where are Harry and Ginny? Are they ever going to come back in?"

Molly beamed at him from the stove where she was dishing up the supper. "Oh, let's leave them alone for awhile. They'll come back in when they're ready." She moved away from the stove to set the dishes on the table and cast a glance out of the kitchen window at the entwined figures silhouetted against the sunset in the distance. She placed the dishes on the table and then stiffened before rushing back over to the window.

"Arthur?" she shrieked, "Why are Harry and Ginny on FIRE?"


	9. Chapter 9 Get a Hold of Yourself

Bill Weasley woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed and gasping for breath. He ran a hand shakily over his face and tried to calm himself down; forcing his breathing to regulate hoping desperately that he hadn't woken up Fleur. She would tell him he was being an idiot–again…for the fourth day in a row.

It was the same dream and it terrified him every time. His sister Ginny, innocent and beautiful, had been kidnapped by Harry Potter and swept away to a tall tower where he had corrupted her in every way he knew how. Bill had raced after them but could never catch up. After the Dream Harry had locked the Dream Ginny up in the tower, Bill had simply stood at the foot of the tower hoping to catch a glimpse of her through the single window.

Fleur told him he was being ridiculous but Bill couldn't shake the feeling of panic he felt in the dream when Harry kidnapped Ginny. He was her older brother; he was supposed to protect her from evil wizards.

Deciding there was no way he would get back to sleep right away; Bill threw back the covers and grabbed his robe from a nearby chair before tiptoeing from the room. The truth was he knew he was being a bit silly but no need for Fleur to wake up and point that out to him again. He'd had quite enough of her scoffing at him.

He made his way to the kitchen and stood by the sink sipping a glass of water, replaying the dream in his head. He really was being a giant prat. Shaking his head at his own shortcomings, he dumped the rest of the water back in the sink and went outside to sit on the back porch. It was nearly December and quite cold but he just tugged his robe closer around him and leaned back, one bare foot idly pushing the porch swing back and forth. 

Bill had been having the dream for the past four nights. Ever since his mother had looked out of her kitchen window and saw Harry and Ginny on fire, rolling around on the grass behind the Burrow. His fingers clenched at the memory. How were they supposed to have known what it meant? That…that…Ginny and Harry were…, Bill groaned and shut his eyes–he couldn't even say the words in his head let alone out loud.

When Molly had shrieked and took off for the back door, the rest of the family had naturally rushed after her. Only Remus had followed at a leisurely pace, strolling with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face–as if he knew what was going to happen.

Bill's mother had shouted warnings at Harry and Ginny but they couldn't seem to hear her. It wasn't until Molly had taken out her wand and shot water at the fire that surrounded them that a _bare-chested_ Harry had finally lifted his head from Ginny and looked up at them with unfocused eyes.

The evening that followed had certainly been enlightening. Remus and Tonks had been beside themselves with laughter and Fred and George had immediately conjured up a piece of parchment and started scribbling and muttering under their breaths to each other. Harry and Ginny both had the sense to look abashed as they stood up from the ground but Bill noticed that Harry had kept a firm grip on Ginny's waist and Ginny had leaned into his side unconsciously. They had apologized to everyone for scaring them but hadn't offered any other explanations except to explain the fire had been an accident.

His mother had been highly suspicious of the lack of injuries on both Harry and Ginny but they had merely smiled at her and started walking back to the house hand in hand. They had walked right past Bill and he had nearly gasped out loud. His experience as a curse breaker had increased his awareness of the magic around him and the power rolling of the two of them as they had passed by had been off the scales. He whipped his head around and noticed a certain hum on the air that faded the further they walked away.

That had been days ago and Bill still couldn't get the picture of the two of them clutching at each other as they rolled around on the ground out of his head. He and Charlie had cornered Ginny later in the house and the conversation had not been pleasant. Ginny had said very firmly they did not really want to know what had happened, that it would scar them for life because they were her older brothers.

When the two had insisted she offer an explanation she had sighed and said, "Fine, when Harry and I snog we get so aroused we can't control our magic and it manifests itself in odd ways. That's what the fire was about."

Bill and Charlie had both immediately turned red. Charlie had snorted trying to hold in his laughter but Bill had choked on his pumpkin juice and Charlie patted him on the back to get him breathing again.

Ginny had merely raised her eyebrows at them and crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that clear enough for you then? Or should I draw a picture? Maybe Harry would like to volunteer to come and offer a demonstration-"

"NO!" Bill had gasped out. "That uh…won't be necessary."

Ginny had floated off with a knowing smile on her face and Charlie had made the rounds of the rest of the brothers, spreading the word about Harry and Ginny "setting each other on fire." Exclamations of disgust and guffaws had followed. Everyone thought it was funny…except Bill.

He hadn't been able to stop staring at his "baby" sister and the boy-who-lived. They had stayed close to each other all night. At the dinner table, when Ginny had handed a bowl of mashed potatoes to Harry who was sitting on her left, the expression on Harry's face had been so tender, Bill had nearly choked on his drink again. When it had come time for Harry to leave, he had held his hand out to Ginny who took it without hesitation to walk him outside. Moments later, Bill heard the pop of Harry's apparation and Ginny had walked back into the Burrow with a dreamy expression on her face.

It wasn't that Bill disapproved of Harry–far from it. Harry Potter was one of the best blokes in the world and Bill owed his family's life to him. Bill thought of Harry as another brother and had spent a good deal of time six years ago protecting the boy from harm.

But no one was good enough for his sister.

In truth, Bill had been dreading this day for years--the day when the right man would come along for their Ginny and no one would be able to stop him from taking her away. But it just had to be bloody Harry Potter. Savior of the wizarding world and the most powerful wizard Bill had ever known–including Dumbledore. The situation was made even more disturbing by the fact that Harry had lied to his sister for six years about how he really felt about her and had hurt her deeply. Now she was all ready to forgive him and, apparently, date him.

The back door creaked open and Fleur floated onto the porch. Bill inhaled sharply. His wife still took his breath away when she entered the room, especially in the moonlight. She looked at him, pity on her face and with a roll of her eyes, swept over to sit by him.

"Did you have that dream again?" she asked with just a tad of her French accent creeping into her speech. She spoke English very well but couldn't quite keep the accent away.

"Yeah," he replied dully. "Sorry I woke you."

"You didn't. I woke up to check on Robert and noticed you weren't in bed." She sat back against the swing and he automatically put an arm around her, drawing her close. She swung her legs up next to her on the swing and Bill used his foot again to set the swing swaying.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Bill," Fleur said finally. "You have got to get over this."

"I know," he groaned. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Why can't I just be happy for her?"

"Are you upset that it is Harry? Do you not like him?"

"No," Bill replied emphatically. "It isn't that. I really like him. I just…its Ginny…and he's hurt her so much already and…" his voice trailed off.

"Is Harry not a good person? Kind? Thoughtful? Intelligent? Loyal?" Fleur asked.

"Yes, of course he is," Bill said. "You know I like him. It isn't that. I'm just worried about Ginny getting hurt."

"Ginny has been in love with Harry for many years," his wife pointed out. "She is probably incredibly happy they can be together now."

"But that's just it!" Bill said, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of her. "Why now? After all these years? She's wanted him for years and now all of the sudden he's ready to pay attention to her!"

Fleur titled her head and looked at him. "William, do you really think this is the first time Harry has paid attention to Ginny?"

"Well," Bill said, startled, "I mean…they never dated at Hogwarts."

"You are a giant idiot," Fleur declared. "You heard what Ron said after they fought at his house--Harry Potter has been in love with your sister for years. Any idiot could have seen that."

"Well I didn't see it! None of us did!" Bill stuttered. "We asked him years ago, all of us, if he felt that way about her and he said no. We made sure of it!"

"Then he lied to you," Fleur said shrugging a shoulder. "I suspect it was some nonsense about wanting to protect her when they were at Hogwarts. Men are such a nuisance about that type of thing."

"A nuisance? Just because we want to protect you! That's crazy. We do it because we love you and don't want you to get hurt."

"That is my point," she replied. "He did it because he loves her. He pushed her away so she wouldn't get hurt."

"Well it did hurt her," he retorted. "A lot. What's to stop him from hurting her again when he decides things get too tough?"

Fleur looked at him thoughtfully. "I do not think Harry will push her away again. He has been pining after her all these years and now he has her, he will not make the same mistake again. He has finally realized, I think, that Ginny can take care of herself and that he is better with her than without."

Bill looked at his wife skeptically before sitting back down beside her with a thump. "How on earth could you know that?"

"I observe things," she said. "I noticed for example the way he was looking at her the first night she came home and the way he looked at her after they dueled."

"Maybe I'm getting too worked up," Bill said hopefully. "It's not like she is going to marry the guy."

"You do not think so? You don't think they love each other to get married?" She paused and turned to look at her husband sitting beside her. It was time for a cold dose of reality.

"William," Fleur said firmly, taking his hand in hers. "Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord only after he had tried to hurt Ginny. He spent years denying how he felt about her so no one would hurt her. He has let her beat him up twice since she got back to England and spent hours while they were at school training her how to defend herself. He is in this for the long while. He loves her and they will spend the rest of their lives together. It is time for you to accept this."

Bill was silent.

"She loves him too," Fleur said softly. "Very much. She always has. Even though she spent four years away from him, she never stopped."

"She said she had gotten over him," Bill grumbled. "When she first got back here."

"She was lying too," Fleur said simply. "You cannot deny this union Bill, you have seen them together, and you know they are meant for one another."

There was the rub, thought Bill. He wasn't completely blind; he saw how they were together. And he had literally felt the power surrounding the two of them the other day. That duel between them…Ginny had shocked him with her talent and ferocity as she had hurled fire at Harry. But Harry had fired right back and Bill had known with a sinking clarity while watching, that no one would ever be able to match Ginny except for Harry.

"What are you afraid of?" Fleur asked curiously. "That you will never see her again? That Harry will take her away from you?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I have this sinking feeling they won't stay put. Harry is the only person who Ginny would follow anywhere and…I'll miss her."

"You are right," Fleur agreed. "They will probably do some traveling. With their talents, I think they will find it hard to work behind a desk at the Ministry of Magic. But Ginny will always be your sister wherever she goes. You are important to her, she will not forget you. Much as you did not forget her when you set off on your own adventures after Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Bill sighed. "It's just I always swore I would protect her and take care of her."

"That is the promise of young boy," Fleur pointed out. "A promise made to a little girl who could not take care of herself. Ginny is not that girl anymore and neither are you that boy."

"Besides," she added, "I suspect that Ginny could take care of you now."

Bill smiled and turned to look at his wife. "Yeah," he said, squeezing her hand. "She's pretty amazing isn't she?"

"She is," Fleur said, a smile lighting up her face. "I have never seen anything like her."

"But," she added gently, "neither have I seen anything like Harry Potter. They are two incredibly powerful wizards who could only find true happiness with each other. No one else would do for them and you know this."

"I suppose you're right," Bill said with a note of acceptance finally creeping into his voice. "I want her to be happy and if this makes her happy then I should just back off."

"It is perfectly normal to be worried about her," Fleur said. "But she can take care of herself and now she has Harry to look after her as well. They will be very happy together."

"But what if you're wrong?" he asked, searching his wife's beautiful face for a sign of doubt.

"Then it is not meant to be," she said honestly. "But Bill, I am not wrong. There is something special about them and you know it. If something does happen, if they break up, then Ginny will be okay. She will hurt for a while, that is true, but she will be able to pick up the pieces and move on. She has done it before and now she knows she can do it again. You cannot protect her from life."

"Okay," Bill said, smiling gently at her. "I'll try to calm down."

"Good," Fleur said briskly getting to her feet. "Let's go back to bed. It's very cold and I have to get up early tomorrow."

"You go on," Bill motioned with his head. "I'll be up in a minute."

Fleur smiled softly at him and bent over to kiss his forehead. "You are a wonderful man to care so much about your sister." She went back inside and shut the door behind her.

Bill leaned back in the swing and sighed again. It wasn't easy to let go of his concerns that Ginny would be okay. Funny, he hadn't been this concerned when she left for Paris. He had seen the urgency in her and knew it would make her happy. So he wasn't sure why he was having so much trouble accepting Harry as her boyfriend when he had seen how happy she was the other night.

He focused his memories on the look in Ginny's eyes when Harry had held out his hand to lead her into the front yard the other night. The gold rim in them had sparkled and the smile on her face had glowed. She looked…blissful.

So, remembering his promise to always take care of his sister, Bill vowed to stop worrying about Harry and went back into the house to join his wife in bed.

"Ginny?"

"Ginny?"

" Ginnn-eee."

"GINNY!"

Ginny snapped out of her daydream to find Hermione looking at her exasperated and Tonks laughing.

"What? What's going on?" Ginny asked confused. "Did you need something Hermione?"

Hermione threw up her hands. "I've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. What on earth is going on with you?"

"Oh leave her alone Hermione," Tonks said with a smirk. "Can't you see she's in love? She's been thinking about Harry of course. I'm surprised your couch isn't on fire."

Ginny blushed. "Shut it Tonks. That was an accident and you know it."

"Right," Tonks agreed. "It was a complete accident that you set yourself on fire when Harry kissed you. I set things on fire myself when Remus does this thing with his tongue on my-"

"Okay!" Hermione said, clapping her hands over her ears. "No sex talk about former professors. I can't handle it."

"Well we had to hear about you and Ron and that time in the Quidditch stands," Tonks retorted.

"Enough!" Ginny said. "Now I'm disgusted. It took three weeks before I could set foot back on the Quidditch pitch after that story so I'll thank you not to bring it up again."

The three witches were at Hermione and Ron's cottage outside of Hogsmeade. Harry, Ron and Remus had gone to the Leaky Cauldron for what Ron insisted was "wizard time only" so Hermione had responded by inviting Ginny and Tonks over for the evening.

It had been four days since she had properly kissed Harry, Ginny thought with a sigh. Since the incident in the yard, when her whole family had been witness to "What Happens When Harry and Ginny Snog," they had barely had time to be alone. Ginny didn't know if it had been done on purpose but she couldn't seem to escape the clutches of her mother to get a spare moment. Then, two days ago Harry had to leave town suddenly on ministry business and she hadn't seen him since.

He'd returned home late last night and sent her an owl first thing this morning, promising they would see each other this evening after his dinner with Remus and Ron. He'd offered to cancel but meeting for dinner was something the three of them did once a month and she hadn't wanted him to give that up. They'd just started dating after all; she didn't expect to see him constantly.

_But oh, she wanted to._ She wanted to spend every waking moment with him, learning everything that had happened to him in the last four years. In fact, right now, she wished they were alone so he could put his hands back on her waist and stroke her skin with his thumb like he did four days ago…

"Ginny!"

"Ooops, sorry Hermione," Ginny grinned sheepishly. "Did I do it again?"

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione huffed. "Can't you stop thinking about him for two seconds?"

"Sorry 'Mione," Ginny said guilty. "I'm just…well, you know."

"Yeah," Hermione finally grinned at her, "I can see that."

Ginny moaned and flopped back on the couch, grabbing a pillow and covering her face with it. "What am I going to do?" she asked, her voice muffled. "I can't stop thinking about him. We agreed to go slow and all I can do is think about that feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when he looks at me." She pulled the pillow away from her face, frowning. "And you know what incredible eyes he has. I think he may have put a spell on me."

Tonks drained the last of her butterbeer and slammed it down on the coffee table in front of her. "There's only one thing you can do in a situation like this Ginny. You've got to shag him rotten. It's the only way to get it out of your system."

Hermione nodded her head sagely. "She's right Gin, you're distracted because of the sexual tension between you. Getting it out of your system would allow you to concentrate again."

Ginny sat up in disbelief, the pillow falling to her lap. She stared at her friend. "I'm sorry," she spluttered. "Did Hermione 'Head Girl' Granger just tell me to have sex with Harry Potter after I've only been dating him for four days?"

Hermione waved a hand at her dismissively. "Oh please, you guys were meant to be. It's not like you won't get married or something. What difference does it make how long you wait?"

Tonks grinned. "I like this slutty side of you Hermione. Does Ron see this side often?"

"Shut it Tonks," Hermione said. "I'm just pointing out there might not be any point in suffering here. Harry and Ginny are obviously attracted to each other, anyone with eyes can see that and they're in love so why wait?"

Tonks studied Hermione thoughtfully. "Hermione's right Ginny," Tonks said, turning towards her. "What's the point in waiting?'

Ginny slumped back against the couch and put her legs up on Hermione's lap. "It's not that simple," she said glumly. "There are…complications."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "What sort of complications could there be? You both wanted each other, we could all tell that the other night."

"Yeah," Tonks snickered, "The flames were a dead giveaway."

"Well for one, I've never slept with anyone before," Ginny retorted. "And according to Harry, neither has he." She covered her eyes with her hand, "I probably wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"Okay," Tonks said slowly. "You're both virgins. That's great isn't it?"

"Yes," Ginny agreed, "it's really great. But there's more to it." She swung her legs off of Hermione and sat up, biting her lip indecisively.

"What is it Ginny? What's wrong?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

"I really want to tell you guys this, because Merlin knows I need someone to talk to, but you have to promise not to share the information with your husbands!" she burst out.

"Okay Ginny," Hermione said concernedly, "We promise."

"Tonks?"

"Hey, you don't have to worry about me. I'm an auror, I can keep a secret."

Ginny grinned at her. "Oh like you were supposed to keep that secret about Remus' little rash he got one night running around as a werewolf?"

Hermione snorted and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Please," Tonks rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't have been so upset if I hadn't accidentally said it in front of the twins. I can't help if those two are a menace to wizarding society. Now spill."

Ginny took a deep breath. "Okay. I haven't shared this with you both before because, well, it was kind of private. And it's not entirely my story to share. That's why you have to keep quiet about it and not say ANYTHING to embarrass Harry…EVER. I want a witches' oath from both of you."

Hermione and Tonks agreed quickly. Ginny took another deep breath and began. "What do you two know about sharing magic?"

Hermione gasped and quickly connected some dots in her head. "You didn't?!"

"What?" Tonks demanded. "What didn't she do?"

Hermione just looked at Ginny amazed. "That's not supposed to be very possible." 

"What?" Tonks insisted. "Someone tell me what's going on!"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Supposedly two wizards who are powerful enough and uh…compatible in many ways can sort of…merge their magic. Combine it you know? It increases the effect of spells. But it's very rare, so rare in fact there are very few recorded cases of a successful spell being cast."

Ginny nodded her head. "Yeah. Dumbledore and Lupin asked us to learn how to do it at Hogwarts during Harry's seventh year. They said we could probably handle it and they hoped it would create a new power level when we were merged. We hadn't heard about it before and so we trained for it."

"You did!" Hermione asked breathlessly. "What happened, did it work?"

"Down girl," Tonks said dryly. "Let her tell the story."

"We did actually," Ginny said looking down at her lap. She didn't understand why she was so reluctant to tell her two closest friends this story. This is what girlfriends did. It just seemed so…private. And she felt funny talking about Harry this way.

Taking a deep breath, she plugged on. "It took us several days but we finally managed to merge and well, it wasn't exactly what Dumbledore and Lupin had expected."

"What? Were you more powerful than they thought you'd be?" Tonks asked.

"Well…we never got around to that part," Ginny said sheepishly. "Sharing magic for Harry and I was very…sexual."

There was silence. Tonks looked like she was trying not to smile and Hermione's mouth had fallen open in shock.

"S…s…sexual?" Hermione finally managed.

"Yes," Ginny confirmed, determined to see this through without blushing. "It was incredibly sexual. The power was intense and it almost felt like…like…an orgasm." She struggled not to blush but she couldn't help it.

"The magic inside of Harry is very powerful–like raw energy–and when we merged, I felt that energy moving around inside of me, all over me. It combined with my magic and well…it felt incredible. I don't know how else to describe it to you."

"And did Harry have similar problems?" Tonks said, trying to keep a straight face.

Ginny nodded, a smile quirking at the corners of her mouth. "He did. He was all flushed and sweaty and well…you know…it was pretty obvious. We were so embarrassed we couldn't look at each other for a week."

Tonks lost the battle to control her laughter and collapsed back on the floor cushion, holding her stomach.

"Did you do this in front of Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked horrified.

"Yes," Ginny said miserably. "And Lupin. It was awful."

"Hey," Tonks protested, sitting back up. "Remus never said a word!"

Hermione started giggling. "Poor Harry!" she said between chuckles. "I bet he was so embarrassed."

"He really was," Ginny grinned. "We never talked about it again…until the other night." Both women stopped laughing abruptly.

"And…" Tonks finally prompted.

Ginny sighed. "I asked him to share magic with me again."

"Why would you do that?" Hermione asked. "You'd just finished telling me you weren't in love with him."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "That was exactly why I thought it would be okay. I figured even if felt like it had the last time, we would be expecting it you know? If we weren't surprised by it, then maybe it wouldn't have the same effect."

"But why Ginny?" Hermione persisted.

"You don't know what it's like to live with this all this power inside of you," Ginny said carefully. "It can be very…intense, and challenging. Harry and I struggled for years to control it and it was always something we shared, just the two of us. Because we were the only ones who could understand it. It bonded us."

"Okay," Tonks said, titling her head. "I can see that."

"So when the fire goddess reared her head my powers grew and changed. I didn't have anyone to share it with me. Harry had always been there to sense what was inside of me and so he always understood things. In Paris, I was alone and I didn't realize how much it had helped, having Harry there."

She shrugged her shoulders. "When I got back and saw him, I remembered what it felt like to have someone know what was going on inside of you. I couldn't stop myself."

She bit her lip and looked at her friends. "Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Tonks said slowly. "What did he say when you asked him?"

"Well, I had to convince him it would be okay but he agreed." She smiled faintly. "He even made me promise not to hold any of his actions against him. I think he thought he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping my bones."

She stood up and walked over to stand in front of the fire. Tonks and Hermione both jumped a little bit when the flames grew suddenly higher as Ginny got closer.

"Sorry," she said, smiling over her friends. "That's not something I can really control. Fire seems to recognize me."

She turned around with her back to the fire. "We merged by the lake," she said. "And it was…even more incredible than last time. The power inside of him, it's grown and changed and it was all I could do to keep the connection."

"Was he having the same problem?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," she admitted. "But we were able to maintain the connection longer this time and well…he kissed me."

Tonks, who had been about to drink another sip of a new bottle of butterbeer, halted with the bottle halfway to her lips. "What!" she exclaimed. "You didn't tell us that!"

"I know," Ginny said, looking down at her feet. "But I thought it was just because of the connection you know? Things had gotten out of control and I didn't want to embarrass him. I didn't realize that he kissed me because he also had feelings for me."

"What happened when he kissed you? Did you kiss him back?" Tonks asked.

Well yeah, I could hardly stop myself. You have no idea what it's like to have someone's magic running through you, especially someone as powerful as Harry," She shuddered. "It's like liquid sex. And we both totally lost it. Harry caused an earthquake and I shot a column of fire into the sky. Totally unintentional I assure you."

Hermione and Tonks stared at each other. "Wow," Tonks breathed. "He kissed you and the earth_ moved_?"

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Okay Ginny," Hermione said wearily, leaning back against the arm of the couch. She wasn't sure how many more revelations and long-kept secrets she could handle after the way this month had gone. "What has this got to do with why it's complicated to have sex with Harry?"

"Well," Ginny began and then paused. She contemplated her feet for a minute and then looked up frowning. "I'm not sure I know how to explain this but I think sharing our magic has done something to the connection between us. We can't…um…seem to control it."

"What do you mean?" Hermione said sitting up.

"I mean," Ginny cleared her throat. "I mean that our magic seems to have a mind of its own. In the clearing, after the duel, Harry and I were…you know…kissing and stuff and I could feel my magic reaching for him. Every time he touched me, it was like something inside of me was pushing to get out and touch him."

She looked anxiously from Hermione to Tonks. "Am I making sense?"

"Are you saying you think that when you and Harry get aroused, your magic spontaneously merges?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Yes," Ginny said excitedly. "That's it exactly 'Mione. We couldn't stop ourselves. I've never felt that out of control before. Harry was shaking he was trying so hard to control his magic from escaping. I couldn't stop and it was like this big roaring sound inside of me, kind of like a bonfire and the next thing I knew, we were connected and it was…well, you know."

"Then what happened?" Tonks was listening with rapt attention, popping crisps into her mouth and crunching loudly.

Ginny gulped, "I kissed his scar."

"What did that do?" Hermione was on the edge of her seat, eying a quill and piece of parchment across the room as if she couldn't wait to take notes on what Ginny was saying.

"It was like…the connection exploded. It was beyond anything I could describe to you. I couldn't stop the flames from bursting around us and the earth sort of…bloomed I guess. Flowers grew, the trees had leaves…it was amazing."

"Man," Hermione grumped. "nothing like that ever happens when Ron kisses me!"

"I'm not sure it's such a good thing 'Mione," Ginny pointed out. "If Harry and I can't learn to control the power, it's going to get out of hand every time we kiss. We're talking natural disasters. Harry can cause earthquakes for crying out loud!"

Ginny was starting to get worked up. She paced back in forth in front of the fireplace, the flames following her movement. What if they couldn't ever learn to control it? They would never be able to be together. She stopped and whirled around.

"What if we can't ever have sex because our magic destroys something every time we do?" she nearly shouted at her friends.

"Ginny calm down," Hermione said firmly, standing up and walking over to her friend. She gripped Ginny's arms. "You and Harry will find a way to control it. You've done it before, you can do it again."

"Hermione," Ginny groaned. "You don't understand. The power inside of him…it's intoxicating. And it does something to my power–they react to each other. I don't know if I can ever control it."

"Sounds like it would be good sex though," Tonks commented, reaching for more crisps.

Ginny gaped at her. "I can't believe you. I am going to die a virgin; sacrifice myself for the greater good and you are just sitting there eating crisps."

"Well," Tonks said, swallowing her mouthful. "I don't really think that is going to happen. I've said it before; you're a bit of a drama queen."

Ginny mouth twitched. "You think I'm exaggerating the situation?"

"No," Tonks conceded, "I felt the power in the air that night after we caught you guys on fire. But Harry's a pretty stubborn bloke and if he wants to shag you, he'll find a way."

Ginny's eyes crinkled and she fought to hold back a smile. "Blokes will do anything to get laid won't they?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "And I can't believe I'm going to say this but I'll look around at work, see if I can find anything that might help you."

"I'll be happy to teach you some meditation techniques Ginny," Tonks offered. "It might help to calm you down in the…er…middle of things."

Ginny couldn't help it; she threw back her head and laughed. "You two," she said between giggles. "You are the best friends ever." And she threw her arms around Hermione.

"Yeah, we really are," Tonks said, standing up to join the hug. "I didn't see you sticking around to help me get in the sack with Remus."

"Yeah," Hermione said into Ginny's shoulder. "You never let me even talk about sex with Ron. And here we are helping you have sex with Harry Potter."

The three women collapsed in giggles, the absurdity of the situation finally overwhelming them. Ginny felt much better. Perhaps she _had_ been exaggerating the situation and Tonks was right; Harry could do anything he set his mind to.

Including, she thought with a silent giggle, _her_.

Three hours later, Tonks, Hermione and Ginny were curled up on the couch underneath a blanket watching a muggle movie. Hermione was sitting in the middle and Tonks and Ginny were both leaning their heads on her shoulders. That was the way it had always been between the three of them. They had first become friends six years ago when Voldemort was at the height of his power and had been inseparable since, despite the difference between their ages. Tonks was older than the other two but Ginny was the glue that held them together. Hermione was nurturing and very affectionate. She fussed over them like a mother hen and though it got on their nerves sometimes, it could be comforting. Tonks kept them all grounded and made them laugh. She never let Ginny's temper get out of hand and she had a way of calming Hermione down when she was in a particularly bossy rant.

They were so into the movie they didn't hear the front door open until Harry, Ron and Remus came stumbling into the living room.

"Oh no," Tonks said disgustedly, lifting her head from Hermione's shoulder to peer at her husband. "Don't tell me they're drunk."

Hermione switched off the television and fixed Ron with a stern stare. "Ronald Weasley, are you drunk?"

"Absolutely not," he said. "Remus is."

Harry snorted in laughter as Remus lurched his way towards Tonks, collapsing in a heap on top of her, his legs stretched out on Hermione and Ginny's laps.

Harry's gaze snapped from Remus back to the end of the couch.

_Ginny._

It had been four days since he had really kissed her and two days since he had held her. Gods, he missed her. Stupid ministry sending him away at a time like this.

Now, as Ginny stood up and stretched, he swore he would never work for the ministry again. There were more important things to be doing–such as making sure Ginny wore that shirt often. It was just a purple t-shirt but it was short and tight and he could see the pink skin of her flat belly when she stood up. She had on faded blue jeans that hung so low on her hips, he could see the beginning of her hip bones. His mouth went dry imagining how easy it would be just to slide those loose jeans down…

"Harry!"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts when Hermione shouted at him. "What Hermione?" he asked irritably.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Honestly, you and Ginny are so frustrating." She had seen the way he looked at Ginny. His eyes had darkened and some of the plates on the coffee table had started rattling. Merlin, maybe Ginny hadn't been exaggerating.

She looked back to her girl friend and found her staring right back at Harry, a slow smile stretching across her face. Hermione quickly decided it would probably be a good idea to distract her husband from the obvious sexual tension in the room between his sister and his best friend. 

"C'mon Ron, help me clean up."

"Me? I didn't make the mess!" he protested, but bent down to gather the trash on the floor anyway. "Oi! How much did you guys eat?"

"Just a little junk food Ron," Hermione said airily. She swept out of the room with Ron following behind her.

Harry and Ginny stared at each other until finally, almost wearily, Harry made his way over to her. "It has been way too long," he said in a low voice.

"It's only been a couple of days," she said, crinkling her nose back at him. But she knew what he meant. It had been too long.

"I'm never working for the ministry again," he vowed.

"Don't be silly," she chuckled, and reached up to put a hand on his neck, letting her thumb stroke up and down his adam's apple. She couldn't stop herself from touching him. He responded by placing his hand on the slim waist poking out from underneath her t-shirt. Her skin sizzled when she felt his bare hand on her. The fire in the fireplace roared and Harry stepped back, removing his hand.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, not taking his eyes off Ginny.

"It's okay," Ginny said breathlessly. "I suppose we really need to get to work on this."

"Yes," he said fervently. "We really do." He cleared his throat. "I really missed you."

"Oh Harry, me too," Ginny replied, reaching out to grab his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

"Get a room you two," Tonks broke in, still looking down at Remus who was babbling drunken nonsense at her. "Harry what did you two let him drink?"

"Firewhisky," Ron answered, walking back into the room, a dishtowel slung on one shoulder. He shrugged. "He lost a bet and had to drink 10 shots in a row."

"What was the bet?" Ginny asked.

"Who could name the last five Quidditch World Cup winners," he grinned at his sister. "Remus isn't known for his expertise in quidditch facts."

"Werewolves are bad drunks," Tonks said crossly. "Help me get him up. Harry I think you're going to need make us a portkey."

Harry and Ron moved forward to lift Remus off Tonks so she could stand up. Ginny found a fork and handed it to Harry who waved his hand over it and it glowed with a soft purple light.

"Sorry Ginny," he said apologetically, looking up at her. "I think I should go with them to make sure Remus gets home okay."

"She can come with us," Tonks said. "We might need the help." Ginny shot her a grateful look and reached out to place a finger on the fork. "Thanks Hermione!" Tonks shouted towards the kitchen.

Hermione came rushing out, "Wait, you're leaving?"

"Sorry," Tonks said, "Remus is five minutes from passing out." Hermione came up between Ginny and Tonks where they were crowded around the portkey. She threw her arms around their shoulders and they both leaned in to kiss her on either cheek.

"It was fun 'Mione," Ginny said, turning back to the portkey. "I'll floo you tomorrow."

"Yes, see that you do," Hermione said pointedly, her eyes sliding towards Harry. "We should talk more," she mouthed silently at her. Ginny nodded and with a swirl, the four of them disappeared.

They reappeared in the Lupin's front hallway. Tonks and Harry dragged a now unconscious Remus into the nearby study where they dumped him on the couch.

"Do you want us to move him upstairs?" Ginny asked.

"Nah," she replied, removing her cloak and throwing it over Remus' prone figure. "He'll sleep it off down here. Thanks you two." She shot Harry a grateful look. "This might make up for getting him drunk in the first place."

"It's not my fault he doesn't know his quidditch," Harry shot back. He held his hand out for Ginny and they turned towards the door. Tonks followed them out. 

"Now don't go burning anything down!" she called gaily after them.

Ginny and Harry swung back around but were too late to reply before she shut the door.

"Nevermind," Ginny said darkly, "I'll hex her later." She turned back towards Harry to find him grinning at her. "What?" she said suspiciously.

"Oh nothing," he said innocently. "It's just that we're all alone for the first time in days and its only 8:30 p.m."

Ginny looked around, noticing they were only the ones on street. Her eyes landed on Harry, a slow smile spreading over her face. "What should we do with that then?" she asked, her voice suddenly husky.

"Well," Harry said thoughtfully. "I definitely think we shouldn't waste this chance. I mean, obviously the universe wants us to be alone."

"Obviously," Ginny deadpanned. Harry put his hands on her hips and started walking her backwards until her back hit the front door of the Lupin's house. He pressed his hips into hers, effectively pinning her against the door. He placed his hands flat on the door on either side of her head, boxing her in.

"Did you really miss me?" He asked in a low voice, his eyes on her mouth.

"I really did," Ginny breathed. Harry moved his face close to hers, his lips hovering over hers.

"Harry?" Ginny asked breathlessly.

"What Nix?" His breath hit Ginny's lips. He smelled like firewhisky and peppermint.

"Don't be gentle, I want to set Tonk's door on fire."

With a growl, Harry closed the distance between them and captured her mouth. Gods that was good. He was _never_ going to go so long without kissing her like this again.

Their mouths moved together and her arms came up to wrap themselves around his neck. He rested his torso on hers, molding himself into her body and slid his arms around her waist. They both jumped at the skin-to-skin contact and Ginny whimpered into his mouth. He took advantage of her lips parting and slipped his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss. His hands slid down to her bum and he squeezed, pulling her pelvis against his own. She arched into him, her hands fisting in his hair. Harry found himself distracted by the sounds Ginny was making for him. He had noticed a similar sound the other night. It sounded like-

"Ginny," Harry said breathlessly, breaking the kiss, "Are you…purring?"

Damn, Ginny thought, her mind still reeling from the kiss, he'd caught her. "Um…" she said, biting her lip and looking at him guiltily. "Yes?"

Harry looked at her sternly and pushed himself off of her. "Is there something else you discovered in Paris that you'd like to tell me?" He held out a hand and she took it, following him down the front steps and onto the sidewalk. She opened her mouth to speak and he stopped her. "No wait, lets apparate back to my house. You can tell me there."

They appeared with a pop on the front steps of Number 12 and Harry opened the door with a wave of his hand.

"Not very good security you've got there," Ginny commented. "I'm a bit surprised, I thought you'd be locked up tighter than the ministry."

"I am," he said with a lopsided grin as he ushered her in the door. "You just can't tell because the house recognizes me. If I weren't with you that would have been a bit more difficult."

He motioned with his arm towards the study. "C'mon, lets go in here."

She followed him into the room where a fire was blazing in the fireplace. "Would you like something to drink? Tea or something? I could call Dobby." Harry was suddenly nervous. She was in his house and they were alone for the first time in days.

Only this time they weren't fighting, they were, he gulped, together.

"No thanks," she said smiling brightly at him. "I've been meaning to tell you, I really like what you've done with this place. I noticed it the other day but didn't get a chance to say."

"I'll give you a tour later," he offered.

"I'd like that," she smiled again.

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest determined to stop the nervous chatter. This was Ginny for Merlin's sake. The love of his life; not some awkward date.

"Okay, spill it, what's with the purring?"

Ginny grinned. "Well, apparently I purr when you touch me." Harry flushed and she laughed. "Okay, I'll be serious." Her face sobered. "I'm an animagus."

"No shit, now show me," Harry said amusedly. He'd figured that much out for himself. Before he could blink again, a majestic animal stood before him. It was large and strong with muscles that rippled and large brown eyes. It had thick, striped fur, a long tail and large claws that looked deadly.

"Ginny," he breathed. "You're a tiger."

She was gorgeous. All of the colors he had always noticed in her hair–red, gold, copper, yellow–were woven into the stripes on her body. Long whiskers twitched and if tigers could grin, Harry would swear she was laughing at him. She roared and showed him her long canines and sharp teeth. The tiger began moving slowly towards him, as if stalking and Harry froze, not sure if he should move. How much of Ginny was actually in that thing?

With a sudden leap, the tiger sprang at him and knocked him down to the ground, pinning him on his back with giant paws at his chest. A surprisingly soft, sandpapery tongue licked his cheek delicately and the tiger bent her massive head to nuzzle his cheek with her nose. Harry chuckled. She was purring again. It was louder in the tiger form and he definitely recognized the sound now. He reached up his hands to pet her and scratched behind her ears, making her purr louder.

She rolled off of him and showed him her white underbelly, all four paws stretched in the air invitingly. He laughed again and got up on his knees to run both hands through the white fur, scratching her and she arched her back contentedly. He marveled at the heat emanating from the tiger's belly. Even in her animagus form, he could still feel the fire that always raged inside of her.

The tiger yawned and in another blink of an eye, Ginny was back, stretched out on the floor catlike, grinning up at him. "You like?" she asked.

"I like," he confirmed. "You're gorgeous…and a bit scary. Just like your human form."

She laughed at him and reached up for his shoulders to pull him down on top of her. He followed willingly and she spread her legs, allowing him to rest his weight between her thighs. He leaned forward, his elbows on either side of her head and tangled his fingers in her hair.

"Well," he smirked, "this is familiar feeling."

"Very," she agreed. She ran her fingers through his hair and tugged his head down for a kiss. He had barely touched their lips together when he pulled back. 

"Wait," he said, trying not to be distracted by the heat that seemed to be pooling in his groin. "I want to know about the tiger."

She shrugged. "I had to take a class on animal transfigurations and it was an extra credit project. It took the whole year. My teacher was really surprised by the tiger when I showed it to her. I think she's a bit scared of large cats."

"Well I think it's brilliant, you can run with me now in my lion form," he said. "But I'm a bit surprised you aren't a phoenix. They're creatures of fire after all, I assumed you'd be one."

She shrugged again. "I don't know, the fire goddess doesn't seem to have anything to do with the tiger. I'm not sure where she came from."

"Well we need a new name for you then. How 'bout kitty?"

She growled at him and he laughed delightedly. "Okay, I'll think of something else." His face turned serious and he stared down at her. She was biting her bottom lip and he swore she did that just to torture him.

"Do you know that for two years in Hogwarts, I watched you bite your lip and it tortured me every time?" Her eyes widened but she didn't say anything, just kept nibbling on her bottom lip. His breath quickened and he lowered his head to speak into her ear. "I couldn't help but think, 'what is so special about that lip' and I desperately wanted to find out. It got to be a bit of an obsession I think. I imagined doing all sorts of things to that lip, imagined all the places you would touch me with it and eventually, every time I saw you bite it, I got-" he broke off and pressed his erection into her center, showing her what it had done to him. She gasped and arched her head back as a wave of heat spread throughout her body.

"Harry," she said shakily, "go slower, there's already one fire in this room. We've got to work up to this. I'm afraid of losing control again." But she couldn't stop her hips automatic response to his thrust and he moved again, rediscovering the friction that had felt so good the other night.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to still his hips. She was right, he was already teetering on the edge of his control. "Okay," he panted, pushing himself up on his arms. "You're right, we need to slow down." Ginny reached out for him and then stopped herself, dropping her arms to her sides and clenching her fists.

"Why can't anything ever be easy for us?" She ground out, her eyes wide. Harry could see the gold rim in them starting to swirl. "Why can't we just shag like normal people?"

Harry lifted his eyebrows at her. "We just got together after six years of my lies and four years of separation. You want to do that already?" A gigantic part of him hoped she'd say yes, even though he knew it was way too soon.

Ginny faltered. "Well, I suppose that would be a bit much," she conceded finally. "But Harry, it's like I don't even have any control over myself." She felt her face going a bit red at the thought of what they had just been doing. He was right, this was too soon. "Oh no," she groaned, covering her face with her hands, "I'm a slag aren't I?"

Harry laughed and rolled off of her, standing up. He reached down a hand and pulled her to her feet. "No," he said, smoothing the hair back from her face, "you're not a slag. It's not just you. I can't seem to keep my hands off of you and when we're together, our magic seems to reach for each other."

"Yes," Ginny said excitedly. "That's exactly what it feels like. Do you think we screwed things up by sharing magic the first time? Like it created some sort of connection between us and because it felt so good, we're unconsciously reaching for each other?"

"I don't know," Harry said, frowning. "I don't think sharing magic 'screwed things up,' but I do think our magic recognizes each other and wants to be merged on some sort of metaphysical level, I guess in the same way we want to merge physically."

His face reddened when he realized what he had just said.

Ginny laughed, her own blush creeping up her neck. "Oh Harry, there's no need to be embarrassed. We're in love, that's what people who are in love do."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah," he said softly, pulling her into his arms, "we're definitely in love."

She smiled up at him, resting her hands on his chest. "So what are we going to do about this?"

"Well, I think the first thing to do is to take it slow. Maybe one of the reasons our power is getting out of control is because it's new. If we give ourselves time to adjust to the feel of each other maybe it won't be so bad."

"That sounds good," she agreed. "I also think we should practice sharing magic again. I know it sounds crazy but maybe the more we share it, the more we'll get used to it."

"On the other hand," she added, "it might just make it harder to NOT merge constantly."

"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully. "But my instincts say that practice will make this easier. If we can get used to it, I'd like to try casting some spells to see if Dumbledore and Lupin's original theory was correct. My concern is the destruction we might cause while we're practicing."

"Then we should go somewhere isolated. Somewhere away from people."

Harry snapped his fingers. "I've got just the place. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing," she said honestly. She still didn't have a job and had no schedule.

"Great," he said enthusiastically. "It'll be a surprise then. Dress warm."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't need to dress warm you dolt."

"Oh right," he said, his eyes flicking up and down her form. His grin suddenly turned feral and he pulled her tight against him. "Have I mentioned my appreciation for the shirt you're wearing tonight?"

"This shirt?" Ginny said incredulously. "It's just an old t-shirt I've had forever."

"Ah but it shows your waist, and your stomach and just enough of your hips to entice me."

He moved his hands over the exposed skin, spreading his fingers wide to touch as much of her as possible. Ginny's skin flared and he marveled again at how her skin seemed to heat up when he touched it. He nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck and began planting soft kisses along the column of her throat. His thumbs moved to trace the top of the hipbones poking out of her jeans and he smiled into her skin when he heard the purring start up again.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me Nix?"

She pressed her pelvis into his, brushing back and forth against his hardness. "I have some idea," she breathed. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" She took his left hand off of her hip and guided it to her breast. Her nipple was hard and she arched into him as he moved his thumb in slow circles over it.

She gasped. "This isn't very slow."

"No," he agreed. But he made no move to stop and began kissing her neck with urgency, running open mouth kisses up to her ear where he sucked the lobe into his mouth. Gods he wanted to just-

"I really want to put this in my mouth," he muttered against her skin, palming her breast and rubbing the nipple through her t-shirt. His other hand slipped down inside the back pocket of her jeans and kneaded her bottom. "Gods Ginny, you have to stop me," he panted. "Or I'm going to rip this shirt right off you."

His words sent a sizzle through straight to the center of her. Images of a naked Harry putting his hot mouth on her bare breasts flashed in her mind and Ginny felt the fire inside of her roaring in triumph. _No_, she thought frantically, _it's too much._ She was about to lose control again.

With strength he didn't know she possessed, Ginny pushed him away and stepped back panting. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark with passion and Harry could see several red marks on her neck where he had been. Her nipples were still hard and he could see them poking through her shirt.

With a start, Harry noticed the power in the room. It had risen so fast he hadn't even noticed it. Furniture was rattling and the fire in the fireplace had doubled in size, its flames reaching out towards Ginny.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I did it again."

"S'alright," she replied, willing herself to calm down. "Why don't you just sit over there and I'll just sit over here and we'll talk."

Harry settled himself down on the chair she indicated and tried to get his raging hormones under control.

"Harry," Ginny began tentatively. "I've got a question and it's a bit personal."

"I don't have any secrets anymore from you Gin, ask away."

"That day in my room at the Burrow, when you were telling me how you felt about me, you indicated that you hadn't…um…slept with anyone. Was that true?"

Ginny held her breath. She wasn't sure why this was so important to her, she certainly had no claim over what he had done the past four years but the idea that he had never been with another woman made her feel…giddy.

Harry smiled at her. "I told you the truth," he said gently. "I've never had sex before, never even wanted to sleep with anyone. So a lot of how you make me feel is completely new and I suspect that's one reason why I lose control so easily."

Ginny's let her breath out in a whoosh. "I can't tell you how good that makes me feel," she said, suddenly extremely happy. "I've never been with anyone either."

Harry inhaled sharply. She hadn't? Not anyone? Even though she had been trying to get over him? He swallowed, the idea that he would be the first to touch her, to feel her, to make her…the idea was intoxicating.

"You haven't?" he managed. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "I guess the same reasons you've mentioned. Sharing magic with you was the most incredible feeling I've ever had and after knowing it could feel like that, no one else even had a chance. How could I just settle for someone?"

Harry stood up and walked over to sit down next to her. He leaned back against the couch and opened up his arms for her.

"C'mon," he said softly, "let me hold you. I promise I'll just hold you."

Smiling softly, she snuggled into his side, letting him wrap an arm around her waist and resting her head in the crook of his neck. He laid his head on top of hers and ran his other hand down her arm. He played with her fingers before speaking. "You cannot even imagine how special it makes me feel to know that. That you would give me such a gift-" he broke off, no longer sure he could speak. She lifted her head up and looked at him, eyes shining.

"I was waiting for you," she whispered. "It's always been you Harry. Even when I didn't know it, I was waiting for you. You are the first and the last. And I can't even tell you how wonderful I feel knowing that you haven't ever…you know. You must have had plenty of opportunities."

"None of them held a candle to you," he said honestly. "I knew it could never compare to how it would have been with you and like you said, why settle?" She smiled again and rested her head back on his shoulder.

"I love you Ginny," Harry said in a low voice. "More than-"

"I love you more than," she whispered. "I wish we were already there you know? That we could already control the power between us."

"Me too," Harry managed. An image flashed in his head of what it would be like when they could control the magic. They were quiet for a moment, staring into the fire.

"Harry," Ginny suddenly asked. "You're supposed to tell me about your consulting jobs for the Ministry."

"Oh yeah," he mumbled. "I forgot." 

"No you didn't," she teased. "C'mon, a bet is a bet."

"I'll tell you tomorrow, how's that?" he said, running his fingers through her hair.

"Okay," she agreed. "But I'm holding you to that." She sighed regretfully. "It's getting late, I should go."

Harry stood up with her and walked her to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow yeah? I'll pick you up at 10." He frowned, looking at her feet. "Wear some boots okay? Not those high heeled ones though, they're too distracting."

She giggled and slid her arms around his waist, lifting up her face for his kiss. He brushed her lips once, twice and then slanted his mouth over hers, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. She melted into him and kissed him back. After several moments, she gathered enough resolve to pull away and giggled again when she saw the dazed look on his face.

She turned around to open the door and looked at him coyly over her shoulder, "If you think those boots are distracting, you should see what they look like when I'm not wearing anything BUT them."

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered, not being able to stop the picture from forming in his mind. "Minx," he said shakily. "Leave this house before I cause an earthquake. I need to go take a cold shower."

She giggled again and shut the door behind her. Harry waited until he heard the soft sound of apparation before turning out the porch lights and walking back to the stairs.

Tomorrow, he decided, he was going to add Ginny's magical signature to the wards around the house. He wanted her to be able to come and go as she pleased.


	10. Chapter 10 PotterHarry Potter

Molly Weasley couldn't stop smiling as she prepared her husband's favorite breakfast of bangers and mash. Her daughter Ginny was home, she was happy, and right now she was upstairs singing in the shower as she prepared to spend the day with Harry Potter.

Molly had wanted Harry as a permanent member of her family the moment Ron came home from Hogwarts after his first year and described the awful way Harry's relatives treated him. The summer her three youngest sons had rescued Harry from Privet Drive, she had vowed that if she ever ran into Petunia Dursley in a dark alley, she'd whip out her wand and put it to good use.

She had always thought there was something between Harry and Ginny and had been more surprised than anyone when he let her go to Paris without saying a word. Now that Ginny was back and Harry had admitted his feelings, Molly was sure they would get married. How could they not? They were made for each other–any wizard could see that. 

Molly served Arthur his breakfast and spooned some onto her own plate, leaving the rest on the stove underneath a warming charm. She was just about to take the first sip of her morning tea when Ginny bounded down the stairs. She was beautiful, practically glowing. Being in love certainly suited Ginny.

"Morning Mum, morning Dad!" Ginny said brightly as she helped herself to some breakfast.

Arthur gave a sort of grunt from behind his newspaper. He seemed to be heavily engrossed in his reading; every once in awhile, his hand would poke out from the side of the paper with his fork and he would fish around on his plate for bite of breakfast. Once he had successfully speared a bit, his hand would disappear back behind the newspaper.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her father. It was same thing every Saturday morning. Her father would disappear behind the newspaper as if he had been starved for news the entire week. He didn't notice anything around him and one by one his children would leave the table until he was the only one left. Eventually, he would set his paper aside with a satisfied sigh and look around in confusion wondering where his family had gone.

Molly smiled fondly at him, turned her attention back to her daughter, and frowned. "Ginny, don't you think you should wear something a bit more…feminine for your date?" Ginny was wearing tan corduroy pants that hung low on her hips, and a maroon jumper–not the girliest of outfits.

Ginny shrugged. "Harry said to be prepared for some walking Mum. He told me to dress warm but we both know I don't really need that."

Mother and daughter grinned at each other. Ginny had told her parents and brothers about the fire goddess thing three weeks ago. She had to swear them to secrecy and although she worried about the growing number of people who seemed to know about it, she couldn't keep something like that from her family.

"All right dear," Molly said. "Do you know where he is taking you?"

Ginny shrugged again, "No idea." She wasn't about to tell her mother that Harry was taking her someplace isolated so they could practice sharing magic. Or that whenever Harry touched her, she had to struggle to maintain control over the power inside of her.

Ginny had just finished helping her mother clear the breakfast dishes when she heard the front door open and a voice call out. That was Harry. She'd known the minute he'd apparated onto the property; his presence always seemed to fill whatever area he was occupying and she could recognize when he was close by. Her stomach swooped a little bit. This was their first official date and she'd been waiting 10 years for it.

Harry walked into the room, his eyes searching for her. When they found her, her heart fluttered as a big grin stretched over his face. Ginny decided no matter how much time they spent together, she would never get used to the look in his eyes when he looked at her like _that_; as if she was the only person in the room.

Her mother apparently got the hint and scurried out of the kitchen with a smile on her face muttering something about laundry.

Harry strode forward and Ginny felt frozen as she watched him come closer with a mischievous look on his face. He didn't say a word, just backed her into the counter and leaned against her, his arms on either side of her, boxing her in. His eyes drifted down to her jumper.

"Is that MY Weasley sweater?" he asked incredulously.

Aha, she'd got him.

It was Ginny's turn to smirk. It was indeed his sweater, as evidenced by the large golden "H" on the front. In fact, it was the first jumper her mum had ever knitted for him. She'd found it in Ron's closest several years ago when Harry had left it here after outgrowing it. She'd kept it because it had smelled like him. It was too small for Harry but it fit her perfectly, stretching tight over her breasts and shoulders with the sleeves coming down to just past her elbows.

"Oh I'm sorry," she replied innocently. "Did you want it back?" She put her hands at the hem of the sweater and made a motion like she was going to remove it. His eyes followed her hand's movements and he moved one hand to her hip to caress a bit of skin that had appeared when she lifted up the edge of the jumper.

"Yes, I think I would like it back," he said, just as innocently.

Ginny faltered, he was calling her bluff. She didn't have a choice now if she was going to win this game. She tugged the sweater up, exposing her flat stomach to him, waiting for him to stop her but his eyes just darkened and his nostrils flared as he kept one hand on the counter and ran the other over the skin she had exposed to him. Ginny could feel her skin heating up as he touched her and her breath quickened. Deciding she really didn't care who won the game anymore, she let the sweater drop back down.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, and grabbed his head, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips met hers and she was lost. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pressed her back against the counter, one arm moving to hold her tight against him while his hand continued to caress her skin underneath the sweater. The kiss went on for several minutes and just as Ginny was about to deepen it, she heard a noise on the stairs that managed to penetrate the layers of fog in her brain.

She broke the kiss and they stepped away from each other just in time for her mother to appear at the end of the steps with a basket of laundry in her arms. Harry moved forward to take the basket from her mother but she stopped him with a wave of her arm. "No, no dear. I can manage. Thank you anyway. You two get going. I'm sure you've got a lot to do today."

Molly pecked Harry on the cheek causing him to blush and winked at her daughter.

Harry turned back to her with a sheepish look, "Sorry, guess we got a little carried away there." Ginny raised her eyebrows at him but just smiled.

"So, can I wear your sweater then?" she asked politely.

Harry's gaze moved to the article of clothing in question and he nodded fervently. "You look much, much better in it than I do. In fact, I've got some other clothes I'll be happy to give you."

Ginny smiled again and held out a foot for inspection. "As ordered, no high-heeled boots."

Harry laughed and reached for her hand, tugging her close again. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Thank Merlin, I think the way that jumper fits you is enough of a distraction for the day. Not to mention how your bum looks in those pants."

Ginny leaned against him, flushing with pleasure from the compliment and lifted her face up to his. "You don't look so bad yourself Potter," she murmured. He was wearing jeans and a red shirt with a dark corduroy blazer and his hair was still a little wet from his shower. He looked yummy.

"Do you want me to dry that for you?" she said, indicating his hair. "It's a bit cold outside."

"I'm okay," he said, squeezing her hand. "We should get going."

"Where are we going?" Ginny asked. "You never said."

"It's a surprise," he insisted. "Now close your eyes."

"Why, what are you up to?" Ginny's voice was skeptical.

"Nothing, I'm just going to apparate us since you don't know the coordinates."

Ginny groaned, "I hate side-by-side apparation. It disorients me."

"Big baby," Harry said playfully. "C'mon, hold onto me."

Ginny grinned and slid her arms underneath his jacket around his waist, pressing her breasts into his chest. "How's this? Tight enough?"

"That's just fine," his voice cracked and he closed his eyes. A second later Ginny felt a squeezing sensation and then a slight breeze on her face. She opened her eyes to find Harry's green ones laughing at her.

"Okay?" he asked mildly.

"Just fine," she said, removing her arms and stepping back from him. He reached for her like he wanted to pull her back but shoved his hands in his jean pockets instead.

"Turn around," he motioned with his head.

Ginny spun around and gasped. They were on a hill overlooking a huge…well…castle really. It was a massive L-shaped stone structure with turrets, towers and huge circular gravel driveway leading up to the front door. Ginny turned in a circle slowly, taking in the mountains and forest that surrounded them and the lake located to the left of the castle. "What is this place?" she asked.

Harry grabbed her hand and began walking towards the castle. "This," he said, indicating the building, lake and land with a wave of his hand, "is Potter Glen. My ancestral home."

Ginny stopped in her tracks, forcing Harry to stop walking. He turned around quizzically but she just gaped at him. "Potter Glen? I've never heard of it."

He smiled at her ruefully. "You wouldn't. I didn't know of it myself until three years ago. I inherited a bunch of money from my parents when I turned 17 but hadn't really had the chance to go through everything until after Voldemort."

He tugged her hand to get her moving again and kept up the narrative as they walked towards the house.

"I discovered it at the top of an estate list from the Potter side of the family. I had no idea they were such an old wizarding family. This was the main house. Sort of a small castle I guess. They owned a good bit of the land around here, including the lake," he explained, nodding in its direction. "They also owned the land of a nearby muggle village. The villagers had been paying rent on the land for years, not knowing their landlords were wizards. Once I discovered this place, I came out here for a few weeks to check things out. The first thing I did was sell the land back to the villagers."

"Why would you do that?" Ginny asked.

He shrugged. "It was only fair. They've had an absent landlord for over 20 years and everyone deserves to own something. Plus, the less people who know me the better. You never know when someone is going to recognize me. I kept most of the land attached to the estate anyway so it wasn't like I needed the extra land in the village. And I certainly don't need the income."

"Where are we anyway?" Ginny said, looking around. It didn't look like any part of England she had ever seen.

"Scotland," he said. "We're really only a couple hundred miles from Hogwarts."

"Really!" Ginny said delighted. "Why don't you live here year round?"

Harry tightened his grip on her hand. "Well, it's really too big for one person," he pointed out. "Remus said there were house elves at one point but after my parents died, Dumbledore told them they could go to Hogwarts and work if they wanted. So the place has been sitting empty for a long time. It was built with magic and that's kept it from falling apart but it would need a lot of work to make it livable."

"But it's so lovely. And isolated," Ginny sighed. "What a great place to live. Can't you imagine waking up every morning to that view of the mountains?"

"Or taking an afternoon swim in the lake…" Harry mused. He was trying not to picture the house filled with his and Ginny's children. That would definitely be moving too fast.

Ginny cleared her throat. Her imagination had been traveling to places she knew were dangerous. "Did your parents live here then?"

Harry smiled at her sadly. "For a little while. Until they had to go into hiding at Godric's Hollow. There's a room here that used to be my nursery."

"Oh! Can I see it?" Ginny asked excitedly.

"I'll give you a tour," he promised.

They reached the front steps and Harry placed a hand on the door. The house seemed to recognize him and it swung opened to reveal a dark interior. Ginny grinned, "I presume I would not have been able to get in that easily?"

"No you wouldn't," Harry admitted. "Oh! That reminds me, I need some of your blood."

Ginny stopped on the threshold of the door and stared at him. "Pardon?"

"Your blood," he repeated. "I want to add you to the wards around Grimmauld Place. That way you can come and go whenever you want. You won't have to ring the doorbell anymore."

Ginny was touched. He was giving her a key to his house. She lifted a hand to his cheek. "Oh Harry, that would be…wonderful."

He smiled at her and turned his head into her hand, kissing the palm. "You are a part of my life now," he said softly. "The biggest part."

"Mine too," she whispered, rising up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. She stepped back and grinned at him. "What if I show up while you're still in the shower or something?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Then I hope you'll join me." He laughed at her expression and shoved her through the door. "Go on then, let's take a look around."

As Ginny walked into the large entryway, torches flamed to life on the walls. "Guess I don't have to light the torches," Harry said dryly. "It's handy having a fire goddess for a girlfriend."

She smirked at him over her shoulder. "This is nothing, you should see the way fire goddesses travel."

Harry frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I'll show you sometime," she said glibly. "Now commence with the tour."

They spent the next two hours walking every inch of the house and with each step, Ginny fell more in love with it. Sure it was old and could use a little updating but it had large rooms and fireplaces and the walls were covered in tapestries and wizard paintings that talked to them as Harry showed her around. The whole house was a monument to the history of Harry's family. After gaping at the huge kitchen and house elves' pantry, Ginny slipped an arm around his waist as he led her back to the front hall.

"It reminds me a bit of Hogwarts. I wonder if there are secret passages and shortcuts. This must have been very exciting for you to discover. There is so much of your family's history here."

"Yeah," Harry said, a shadow falling over his face. "I spent a lot of time talking to the paintings. They were full of information. Several of the pieces of furniture in here are antiques and the library is full of rare books. I could never bring myself to show it to Hermione though. She would have…well, you know…"

"She would have ruined it by being all clinical about it," Ginny said knowingly.

"Yes," Harry agreed gratefully. "I wanted to keep it to myself you know? It's the first time I've ever had a family history that didn't involve the Dursley's and it felt too special to allow it to be dissected and catalogued."

"Hermione certainly would have wanted to catalog it," Ginny mused. "I'm curious though, if you wanted to keep it to yourself, why am I here?"

Harry looked at her with exasperation on his face. "Ginny," he said patiently. "This is my past," he explained, motioning to the house around them. He stepped closer and slid his arms around her waist, leaning forward to rest his forehead on hers.

"And you," he whispered looking into her eyes, "are my future. I wanted the two to meet."

Ginny sighed softly. "Sorry," she said. "I know. It's just a hard concept to get used to. I've spent a lifetime training myself to not think like that."

Harry closed his eyes. "I know and I am so sorry. I promise I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"No need," she said, now sliding her arms around his waist and hugging him close. "All I need is you."

"Well you've got me." He lifted his head and looked down at her. "Ginny, thank you so much for forgiving me. I know I didn't deserve it but-"

"Stop," Ginny commanded. "You are not going to spend the rest of our lives apologizing for the past and thanking me for forgiving you for mistakes. I made mistakes too and we'll both make them again. I forgave you before that silly duel and I meant it. Now shut up and kiss me."

Harry grinned. "We've been together for five days and you're already bossing me around. Damn that feels good."

He tugged her closer and kissed her hard on the mouth. His hormones were urging him to deepen the kiss but he really didn't want to damage the house so he pulled away before things got too heated. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was disappointed but understood his actions.

"C'mon, let's take a tour of the grounds. There's a great place where we can practice."

She followed him into the sunlight and squinted her eyes against the sudden brightness after the dark house. "You know," she said thoughtfully, her boots crunching on the gravel driveway, "I think we're already getting used to one another. It gets easier every time you kiss me. I mean, I can still feel my magic reaching for you but it's sort of calmed down. Can you feel it?"

"Yes," he said. "But I wondered if it was just my imagination. The urge is still there, I can feel that, but it's like the more time we spend together, the more our magic gets used to the feel of each other. It still wants to connect but I wonder if it can sense that we're going to be together a lot and it doesn't need to panic anymore."

"That makes sense I suppose." They walked in silence through what must have been a beautiful garden at one point. Harry led her down the paved path to the nearby lake and they stood for a few moments taking in the view. It was a large lake surrounded by mountains and Ginny thought it was breathtaking. She sighed contentedly. "It's so peaceful here Harry."

"Would you like to spend a lot time here then?" he asked her softly, still looking at the lake.

Ginny stiffened. She suspected the question was not as innocent as it seemed and wondered how much she should tell him of the secret desire in her heart that had been growing since she first laid eyes on Potter Glen. Her traitorous imagination would not let go of the picture of a house full of children and summer days spent swimming in the lake.

"I think it's a wonderful place," she finally said carefully. "It would be a fantastic place to live."

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. It really was too soon to be thinking of such things but he had to know what she thought of the place. He had pictured raising his family at Potter Glen since the moment he entered the house three years ago. It was a bit large, but wonderfully isolated from the rest of the world. Just the place for Harry Potter's children to grow up.

"Shall we keep moving?" Ginny asked brightly, breaking the spell.

He nodded again and they walked for another mile, chatting about the extensive lands Harry had already traversed three years ago. When they reached a large field that was relatively flat and far removed from the forest, he stopped. "This is the place I had in mind. It's far enough from the house and any of the trees."

Ginny agreed, looking around her. "The only thing I could set on fire here would be the grass." She was suddenly nervous. They were going to share magic again and so far, their track record wasn't so great. What if they lost control again? How far would they take things?

Harry sensed her sudden apprehension and took her hand. "Ginny," he said tentatively. "I don't want you to think I'm just doing this so I can get you into bed." The idea had been bothering him since last night, after she had left Grimmauld Place. Sure that was something to look forward too but mostly he wanted them to be able to be in the same room together without their magic going haywire.

"I think it's important we learn how to control this. I want to be with you in every way, it's true, but we've got to be able to control this if we're going to have any sort of relationship."

He searched her face anxiously. Did she think him just a giant pervert trying to get in her pants?

"I know Harry," she said gently. "I understand." She felt the same way really. Making love with Harry was going to be…gods…incredible but it was going to be a problem if they couldn't learn how to control the power levels they created just by being in the same room. Even now, she could feel her magic straining to touch his. That had to stop. She couldn't spend the rest of her life like this. Her magic was just going to have to get used to his.

"But you have to admit," she teased, "It's a nice side effect."

Harry growled playfully at her and pulled her to him. He tucked his head in the crook of her neck and began nipping at her flesh. She laughed breathlessly and allowed him a few moments of nibbling before shoving him away and smoothing her hair back.

"C'mon Potter, keep it in your pants. We've got work to do."

His face blushed at her bold statement and she giggled at him. Rolling his eyes, he took a few steps back from her. "Okay, I think it's best we do this without touching. Less temptation."

"What exactly are we going for here? What's the game plan?" she asked.

"I've been thinking about that since last night," he answered. "I think our main goal should be to learn how to cast spells together, see if it increases the power like Dumbledore thought it would. But I'm hoping that our magic will get used to each other and it won't push us so much to merge."

"You don't think the more we allow it to merge, the more it will want to?" she questioned. "That seems a bit backwards. What if we're just tempting it more? Giving it what it wants?"

Harry grinned at her. Damn he'd missed this. She had always questioned his methods, always challenged him and managed to do it without nagging him like Hermione did. During the years they had trained together, she had been the only one who never gave into him right away. His friends thought it had irritated him but it had only made him work harder and it had forced him to examine the reasons behind many of his decisions. She had been right more times than he cared to admit.

"Maybe," he conceded. "But I think what we'll be doing is training the magic to respond to our commands. Kind of like forcing it into submission. It seems to have a mind of it's own in this and maybe by asserting our control over it, we'll be showing it who's boss."

She lifted her eyebrows at him. "And if you're wrong?"

Harry shrugged. "I might be. But I'm not sure what else to do. We can't get rid of the magic and we've got to start somewhere."

"Okay," Ginny agreed. "I trust you in this; you've always had a better understanding of the nature of magic than I have. But I'm warning you now Potter. If I set something on fire, don't get mad at me for ruining the land."

"I won't," he assured her. "You know what's going to happen when we merge right?"

Ginny smirked at him. "You're going to want to jump my bones most likely."

"Yes I am," he said honestly. "But let's try to control that urge and see if we can get past the first level of merging. I suspect the longer we hold the connection, the easier it will be to work with."

He took a deep breath and faced her. Closing his eyes, he sent a tendril of magic towards her, seeking the power within her he could already feel was reaching for him.

Wham! There it was. Suddenly he was swimming in Ginny again. The volcano within her raged when it recognized him and it set his body on fire as it moved through him. He opened his eyes and saw Ginny standing amidst their swirling auras, her fists clenched by her side. She had her eyes shut tight in concentration.

She looked gorgeous.

"Are you okay?" he gasped. Merlin, would he ever get used to what this felt like?

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "I don't want to open my eyes because then I'll look at you and I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself then."

"You need to open your eyes Ginny," he urged. "We can't do this blind."

Ginny opened her eyes slowly, focusing on Harry. His face was strained and it was no wonder. The combined energy running through her had nearly brought her to her knees when they had first merged. It was a wonder they were both still standing. Her gaze traveled down to his obvious arousal and she groaned, shutting her eyes again. Another wave of heat spread throughout her.

"So good," she managed. "Do you think it felt like this for the other people who shared magic?"

"No idea," Harry said taking short breaths, trying desperately to keep his feet where they were. "We should have Hermione look that up for us."

"C'mon Harry," Ginny said, opening her eyes again. "Let's talk about something to get our minds off of this."

"I'm not sure I can," he said, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back. "All I can think about is how it feels to touch you."

"Stop it," she hissed. "That isn't helping. C'mon, tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't think of a damned thing," he said honestly. "My entire brain has shut down."

Ginny couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped. "Nice to know I have such an effect on you."

"You have no idea," he breathed, looking at her.

"Oh, I think I do. You…um…excite me too, you know." The auras swirling around them moved faster and his eyes darkened.

"Ginny," he warned. "That isn't helping either."

"I know, I know," she chanted, clenching her fists tighter. "But it's all I can do to keep from launching myself at you and wrapping my legs around your waist."

Harry inhaled sharply. "We've got to stop talking about this. We're just making it worse." He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out, the ache for her was intensifying rapidly.

"Okay," she panted. "I'll tell you something about me…um, I know! I'll tell you funny stories about Fred and George. That's always good for a laugh."

"Please," Harry said, a pained expression on his face. He tried to listen closely and it worked for a while. He found himself relaxing, even laughing at the story of when the 6-year-old twins tried to prank Bill. He opened his eyes and saw Ginny pacing back and forth, fiddling with her left earring as she recited stories from her childhood.

Unfortunately, her constant worrying of the dangling piece of jewelry caused it to fall out of her ear and she had to bend down to pick it up. The sight of her bum as she bent over was all it took for Harry's tenuous control to snap and he moved the few steps to her, grabbed her hips from behind and hauled her against him.

She yelped, but immediately melted into him, wiggling her bum into his erection as he pressed against her. Her arms reached behind her to pull his head down so she could press her mouth against his. The kiss was an instant clashing of tongues and despite the odd angle; Harry managed to ravage her mouth thoroughly. His arms wrapped themselves around her waist and Ginny broke the kiss, gasping.

"Touch me Harry, please." She arched her back, pressing her bottom tighter against him.

Harry needed no further encouragement. He fastened his mouth on her neck and slid his hands up over her jumper to cup her breasts. Ginny cried out when his hands slid over her and his knees nearly buckled at the wave of heat from her that hit him. He kneaded her flesh, Ginny writhing against him.

Ginny was drowning in the sensations caused by Harry hands and she desperately wanted to touch him. He had her pinned against him and she couldn't move, except to rub the back of her body against his front.

"Need to touch you," she gasped out. "Please Harry."

Harry spun her around and yanked her back against him, dipping his head to capture her mouth again. Ginny ran her tongue along his lips, seeking entrance and purred with satisfaction when she sank her fingers into his hair while deepening their kiss. His hands traveled up and down her spine, finally landing on the small of her back and fisting in her shirt.

Ginny's hands moved from his hair and roamed over his shoulders and chest, eventually tugging his jacket down his arms. When he took his hands away to pull the jacket off, she tore herself from this mouth and placed wet kisses along his jaw line, over to his ear. He hissed when she took his ear lobe in her mouth and wrapped his arms around her waist again, tilting his neck to give her better access. She moved her mouth down his neck, sucking and licking his flesh, finally fastening her mouth on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. She frantically undid the first few buttons on his shirt, spreading the collar open as she moved her mouth over his collarbone. She pressed kisses back along his skin, stopping a moment to delve her tongue into the hollow at the bottom of his throat and then ran her tongue up his throat, over his Adam's apple and onto his chin. She spent more time kissing his jaw line before finally moving back to his mouth.

Harry kissed her back with ferocity. He was lost in her. Never wanted to be without her. Couldn't imagine how he had survived a large portion of his life without touching her this way. His hands roamed boldly over her back, even dipping down to squeeze her bum. He gripped her hips and ground himself against her, moaning in the back of his throat when she curled her hips into him.

He really, really needed to get her on the ground, flat on her back if possible.

A tiny nagging voice persisted in the back of Ginny's brain, telling her to slow down, to pull away from Harry but she ignored it. A larger part of her brain noticed that no columns of fire had shot to the sky yet and the ground wasn't moving beneath their feet. Maybe they were getting better at this.

Harry took matters into his own hands and he slid his hands down past her bum, bent his knees a little to grasp the back of her thighs and lifted her up, her legs automatically coming around his waist. Without breaking their kiss, he sunk down to his knees and laid her down on her back. Tearing his mouth from hers, he thrust against her center, causing them both to groan and Ginny to arch her back. She responded to his thrust with one of her own and he quickly settled them into a rhythm. He was so hard for her, it was painful. And the feel of her moving beneath him almost sent him over the edge. He placed open mouth kisses down to her ear, and devoted a good bit of attention to the spot just below it that he'd discovered made her purr louder.

Ginny couldn't stop her hips from moving against him. His frantic thrusts caused the seam in the crotch of her pants to hit just the right spot and she could feel the fire inside of her pooling in her belly, as if it was gathering itself. They were rocking together, the friction almost unbearable. She didn't care that they were in the middle of a field with all their clothes on. She would deal with the embarrassment of the moment later. All that mattered was reaching a point she had only ever reached by herself before now.

His left hand moved up underneath her sweater to cup her breast through her bra. He moaned when he felt how hard her nipple was. All thoughts of reason had already left his brain.

"Tell me this is okay," Harry gasped in her ear. He wouldn't be able to stop thrusting against her if his life depended on it. He could feel the magic swelling between them and knew he was close to making a big mess. "Tell me you want this."

"I want this," Ginny panted. "Gods, don't stop. Don't ever stop." She tightened her legs around him and he increased the pace of their movements. 

She matched him thrust for thrust and suddenly, in one shared, blindingly white-hot moment of heat, he took her over the edge, shouting her name hoarsely in her ear, his hips jerkly roughly against her, as he couldn't stop himself from spilling in his jeans.

Ginny gasped his name too, her eyes slamming shut as she gave herself over to the sensations. It was like falling of a cliff. She felt the orgasm spread throughout her body, beginning with her clitoris and ending in her toes, which automatically curled in her boots.

Their loud cries had caused a flock of birds resting nearby to take to the sky and Ginny couldn't stop the fire from erupting around her. The earth gave a tremor as Harry slammed his hips one final time and collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair.

Their magic was still connected but Harry could feel the it calming down. Their auras, which had been swirling so fast a light breeze had sprung up, slowed down to wash over their entwined bodies in a mesmerizing mixture of colors.

Ginny hugged Harry tight to her body. She felt different somehow. The world felt different. She let go of her senses and went searching inside her body, looking for the threads of magic that connected them. The threads were completely wrapped up in each other and Ginny slowly started pulling her magic away from Harry's. It didn't hurt like it had the last time even though it still felt a bit wrenching and Ginny sighed with relief when the flames on her skin died down. She could feel Harry pulling his energy back into himself and suddenly the connection was gone.

Ginny felt a little empty and the memory of what they had just done crashed over her.

With a groan, Harry rolled himself off her and lay on his back, one knee bent and one leg stretched flat. He waved a hand over his crotch to clean himself and slapped a hand to his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, not looking at her. "I don't know what to say. I feel like a randy teenager."

"No," Ginny said, trying in vain to stop blushing. She scooted over and curled up into his side. He wrapped an arm automatically around her and sighed. "Okay, it was a little embarrassing," she admitted, "but it's perfectly normal and we shouldn't be embarrassed to share that with each other. Besides, I think something really important happened. Can't you feel the difference?"

Harry relaxed the arm he had thrown over his eyes and concentrated. He reached out to sense Ginny's magic and instead of the slamming jolt of power he usually sensed, he found a calm ocean of fire. The power was still there and it noticed his approach but it didn't reach frantically for him like before. On the other hand, the connection was much easier to make and he found he needed very little concentration to sense her.

"What do you think happened?" she asked timidly, still stretched along his side. "I can feel you reaching for me but it doesn't feel like I can't control the power like the other times."

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I suppose we should try merging again and see what happens."

"You bounce back quickly," she said, trying not to laugh at the absurd situation. "Going for multiples are you?"

Harry tried to hold back his chuckle. It shouldn't be funny but if he didn't laugh about this, the mortification of what the way he had just thrown her on the ground was going to hit him. Soon they were both chuckling and Harry rolled over to face her, one hand resting on her hip.

"I love you," he said softly. "And I'm sorry I let things get so out of hand."

"This isn't your fault," Ginny insisted. "I was there too and just as out of control as you were. Merlin, I practically begged you to touch me."

Harry laughed again at the memory. "You were begging me," he teased. "How could I resist that?"

"Prat," she huffed and swatted him on the shoulder. He captured her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a kiss across the fingers.

"You deserved better than that," he said quietly. "I wouldn't have chosen to do that with you in such a way."

Ginny smiled at him. "It was a beautiful setting and it felt bloody brilliant," she said firmly. "I don't need candlelight and roses, I just need you."

"Ah, but I want to give them to you Phoenix," he said, rubbing his cheek on her hand. "But you're right, it did feel bloody brilliant. I've never…uh…done that with anyone before," he finished blushing.

"Me neither," she said, grinning at him. "And if it was that good, imagine how good it's going to be with the clothes OFF."

He groaned again, flopping down on his back. "You are going to be the death of me."

Ginny got up to her knees and bent over him, kissing him firmly on the lips. "C'mon Potter, let's talk about what happened."

Grumbling about girlfriends who were slave drivers, Harry sat up and crossed his legs in front of him, running a hand through his hair. Ginny had really mussed it earlier and it was sticking up all over the place. Facing her, he sensed her magic again.

"It's still there," he said frowning, "the power I mean, it's as strong as ever. But the connection, it's different. I don't have to work as hard to reach it."

"No," she agreed, shutting her eyes. "And I can feel you reaching for me. Look, I can reach back," and she sent a jolt of power reaching for him. He quickly grasped it and suddenly they were connected again, their auras bursting into color again.

"That was much easier," she breathed, "and more…peaceful somehow. I don't feel so out of control."

"Me neither. It's weird. The connection is strong--I can feel your power inside of me and it still feels bloody brilliant but it's like, the urgency has settled down," he said, frustrated he couldn't describe it better.

"Pull out," she commanded. He obeyed and she was quiet for a moment before opening her eyes and gasping. "Harry!" she said. "I can still feel you inside of me, even though you pulled out. It's like…like…like you're a shadow in my mind."

He closed his eyes concentrating for a moment. "Yes," he murmured. "There you are." His eyes flew open to find her gaping at him. "I think," he said slowly, "we may have created a permanent connection to each other."

"How on earth did we do that?" Ginny said shrilly. "Is that bad?"

"I really don't know Nix," he shrugged. "But it doesn't feel bad. I mean, if I concentrate, I can still feel…like a remnant almost…of your magic inside of me. It feels pretty damn good actually. Like our power can reach for each other any time we want."

Ginny sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I suppose we'll have to ask Hermione about this. She'll ask all sorts of embarrassing questions and I'll have to tell her how you humped me like a dog."

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "Wha…but…you," he spluttered. 

Ginny collapsed in laughter. "You should have seen the look on your face," she said between giggles. "Goddess, that was worth the embarrassment of saying such a thing."

Harry fixed her with a stern gaze. "I recall you getting your own too Weasley," he retorted. "And I certainly didn't hear you objecting."

Ginny's laughter died down to quiet chuckles. "I'm sorry Harry, that was just too good to pass up."

Harry couldn't help staring at her. The laughter on her face lit her from within and her hair was still mussed from earlier, her lips bruised from his kissing. She looked gorgeous. And he could feel how happy she was if he concentrated on the shadow her magic had left inside of him.

"Do you have any idea of much I love you?" he asked in a low voice.

She stopped giggling and looked at him with wide eyes. "How much?" she whispered.

"I don't know if I could possibly even tell you," he said. "But it takes up every part of me."

"I can feel it," she said, her voice full of wonder. "If I concentrate on you, I can feel your love for me. Oh Harry, it's the most beautiful thing…" She crawled over to him and up into his lap, hugging him and whispering strange words under her breath. 

Harry closed his eyes and let the feeling of her love surround him, penetrating him until there was only Ginny and the words she was whispering to him.

"What is that?" he asked, "What is that you are saying?"

He could feel her smile against his neck. "It's Gaelic," she admitted. "I got it along with the fire goddess–apparently they used to speak it. It seems to come out when I'm feeling particularly emotional."

"There are just all sorts of levels to you aren't there?" he said amusedly.

"Of course," she said airily. "Who else could put up with the Great Harry Potter?"

"I can't wait to discover them," he said firmly, pushing her off his lap and getting to his feet. "C'mon, let's merge again and see if we can cast some spells."

Ginny got to her feet as well, dusting off the back of her pants. "All right Earth-man, whip us up some large boulders."

They spent the next two hours hurling magic at rocks, keeping their magic merged. It was a struggle sometimes to ignore the feelings their combined magic caused but the power of the spells was shocking. One reducto spell pulverized a large boulder and when Ginny shot a fireball at a large tree Harry had conjured, it was vaporized with barely a puff of smoke.

"Merlin," Ginny said. "This is incredible." She looked at her hands, twisting them back and forth as if unable to believe they could produce such power. "I wonder what else we can do."

"Let's see what happens if we're touching," Harry suggested and reached out for her hand but the skin to skin contact didn't seem to make much of a difference. "I wonder how long we can maintain this connection."

"I don't know but considering the power of these spells we shouldn't test it around people," Ginny said. "I wonder how close we have to be standing before the connection breaks?" They walked further and further away from each other but the connection held firm. Harry even apparated back to the main house but they were still joined.

"I guess it won't end unless we tell it too," Harry called, making his way back to her. "We should check the Potter library and see if there are some more powerful spells we might be able to work with."

His stomach suddenly gave a large growl and he looked at his watch. "Gods Ginny it's 5 p.m. and we didn't eat lunch, you must be starving!"

"I am bit hungry," Ginny admitted. "But I didn't notice until you said something. Should we go into the village and eat?"

"Actually, I prepared for this," he said smugly. "Dobby!" The house elf appeared with a large picnic basket that he handed over to Harry. "Thanks Dobby," Harry said. "We're starving." He held out his hand for Ginny. "C'mon Nix, lets go eat by the lake."

He apparated them back to the lake where Ginny conjured up a table and two chairs and they dug into the food Dobby had prepared. After finishing the last of his butterbeer, Harry leaned back with a sigh.

"This is the life," he said. "Good food, good scenery," he turned to look at her, "good girl…"

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, "I really am. You are extraordinarily lucky."

Harry threw a balled up napkin at her which she avoided laughing. "Hey! You said it, not me!"

He threw a lopsided grin at her and called Dobby again to come take the basket away.

"Thanks Dobby," Ginny said. "It was delicious."

She banished the table and with a wave of her hand, transformed their chairs into more comfortable ones. "Okay Potter," she said, shifting around to face him with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. "Spill. I want to hear about this consulting stuff. You promised."

Harry sighed. He had known it would come to this. A part of him was excited about the proposition he had been given authorization to make but he couldn't quite get rid of the small part of him that wanted to lock her in a box and keep her safe. Ginny would never stand for that, he thought ruefully, and she was too powerful to let her magic go to waste. He adjusted in the chair, seeking a more comfortable position for what promised to be a long discussion.

"You know two years ago I was part of the Auror Department but that I quit after capturing Malfoy right?" She nodded and he continued. "Like I told you before, I was happy to quit and didn't really need to work but after 6 weeks of doing nothing but remodeling Grimmauld Place, I began to get a little…ancy." Ginny raised her eyebrows at him but did not comment.

"There wasn't anything else I really wanted to do. I'd thought about playing professional quidditch but that's really fun for me and I didn't want to turn it into a job, you know?"

"Shame," she murmured. "You would have been fabulous."

Ignoring the comment on his Quidditch skills, he spoke again. "I was happy to keep leisurely searching for a job but someone from the Ministry came to visit me one day. It was a member of the Magical Law Enforcement office and they wanted me to…find something for them. Sort of as a freelancer. The pay was great but the excitement of it was what really drew me. They had very little information to go on; it was like looking for a needle in a haystack…and I couldn't tell anyone. It had to be a complete secret. It was a real drawback not being able to utilize Hermione's brain, but I finally located the item after three weeks of searching and from that point on…I was hooked."

He looked up at her, "Ginny, I'm a sort of…spy I guess. I work for the Magical Law Enforcement office mostly but occasionally I do some work for the Department of Mysteries. I'm off the record and very few people know my position exists, let alone my real name—they just list a code name on all the paperwork. Your family doesn't even know what I do, although I suspect Hermione and Ron could guess. Your father and Percy probably could as well. But I report directly to the head of the Law office and all of my missions are not necessarily approved by the minister."

Ginny wasn't surprised. She had guessed it was something like this but as he went on to describe a few of his "missions" she was intrigued by the secrecy with which he operated.

"But Harry," she interrupted, "you tell people you do some consulting work for the Ministry. You must be listed somewhere in their employee records."

He grinned at her. "Officially I'm listed as a consultant for the Auror Department. Every year I conduct a workshop on various magical fighting techniques and that provides a good cover. I'm also assigned several diplomatic missions that are listed on the record. Usually they're covers for something else but as far as the ministry is concerned, I'm a diplomat working to bring the magical communities of the world closer together. What better job for the man who killed Voldemort?"

Ginny was silent for a moment, picking at a loose thread on her pants and mulling over everything he had told her.

"Harry," she said finally, lifting up her head to look at him, "how is that you are allowed to tell me this? This is really secret stuff and you probably shouldn't be speaking to me about it, even if it was part of the bet."

"You're right," he said. "I had to get special authorization in order to be able to tell you."

"But why?" she asked stupidly. "Why would you do that?"

Harry waved a hand and a footrest appeared in front of his chair. "Well," he drawled, stretching out his legs and propping up his feet on the footrest, "They've agreed to let me have a partner..."


	11. Chapter 11 Go Siorai Forever

Author's Note: Here's Chapter 11 for those faithful readers who have followed me over from SIYE where the original chapter was rejected for overstepping the "R" content. I have another toned down chapter submitted over there but no word on its' validation yet. In any case, I've added even more to the love scenes in this chapter because I have more leeway at this site. Enjoy it!

-

Ginny opened the heavy door to the Three Broomsticks and paused to wipe the wet soles of her shoes on the rug just inside before letting the door slam behind her. The noise startled some of the pub's patrons whose heads snapped up to see who had closed the door so forcefully.

"Sorry," Ginny shrugged at them.

She tried not to notice the continued stares and with an inward sigh, made her way to the bar to order a butterbeer. It was snowing outside, the weather ridiculously cold, and Ginny knew they thought it was odd to see a witch walking around dressed only in tight jeans and a thin blue sweater with a purple scarf. Maintaining her secret during the winter in England was more difficult than she had expected it to be. She didn't really need to wear a winter coat and the snow melted on her skin in little wisps of steam before she could even feel it. British people, Ginny had discovered, were a lot more observant than the French. Or, she amended, perhaps the French were just used to weird people visiting their country.

Already Ginny had been stopped several times in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade by well meaning witches who were certain she was about to catch her death by being out in the cold without a cloak. She had taken to wearing warm clothing, despite the fact that she didn't really need it as she could regulate her body temperature at will. But she couldn't see the sense in wearing a bulky winter cloak that made it difficult to move around.

Muggle London was a lot more anonymous, but she had promised Hermione she would meet her for lunch today and her friend was nearly 5 months pregnant, making it impossible for her to apparate. Since Hermione and Ron lived in Hogsmeade, it made more sense for Ginny to travel to her.

"Ginny Weasley!" Madame Rosmerta had recognized the red-haired witch immediately.

"Hullo Rosie," Ginny grinned, and stepped around to the side of the bar to hug the pub's bartender and owner. Rosmerta and Ginny had bonded several years ago when death-eaters had attacked Hogsmeade and Ginny had defended The Three Broomsticks, protecting a group of third-year Hogwarts' students who had been trapped inside. Rosmerta had never forgotten the fiery student who had saved her bar from destruction.

"I haven't seen you in an age," Rosmerta said warmly. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh a little of this, a little of that," Ginny replied glibly. "I just moved back to England actually. I've been attending Wizarding University in Paris."

"I knew that. Your brother has kept me updated on your progress. Are you home for good now then?"

Ginny shrugged again and smiled sheepishly. "I suppose. I don't really have a plan right now. I've been staying with my parents but I know that will have to change soon. They're probably getting sick of my free-loading."

"I'm sure that's not true," Rosie said wisely. "I bet Molly is really glad to have you home after so many years. Now, what can I get you?"

"A butterbeer thanks," Ginny said, reaching into the satchel purse slung diagonally across her body for some galleons.

"Put that away," Rosmerta tsked at her. "It's no good here. Defenders of the pub don't have to pay—it's a rule I made years ago."

Ginny let the flap to her purse close. "How do you keep track of them all?" she asked amusedly. There had been several who had defended the pub the day death-eaters had attacked.

"I just know," Rosmerta said shortly, drawing a pint of butterbeer from the tap. "One doesn't forget something like that. The trick is keeping the secret from the ones who weren't there. One leak of free butterbeer and next thing you know I'll have a mass riot on my hands of wizards anxious to defend the pub from imaginary creatures."

Ginny grinned at her and took her free butterbeer. "I'm going to find a seat. Hermione should be along soon looking for me."

"I'll send her your way," Rosmerta said, waving a hand in dismissal. "She's pretty easy to spot now with those babies she's carrying around."

The eternally beautiful bartender turned around to serve another customer and Ginny made her way to a seat as far from the roaring fireplace as possible. She usually loved being near the fire but the way the flames reacted to her presence was sure to draw unwanted attention.

Harry had taken her to dinner three nights ago at the Leaky Cauldron where she had automatically gravitated towards a seat in front of the fireplace; when the flames reached out of the fireplace to caress her skin, they had been forced to move. Harry had nearly memory-charmed their server who had eyed them suspiciously as she had followed them to a new table.

Ginny slumped back in the booth she had selected and idly picked at a spot on the scarred tabletop while she waited for Hermione. Her friend was increasingly late for appointments and Ginny suspected it was a lot harder for Hermione to get around than she was willing to admit. She usually blamed her lateness on Ron and Ginny always agreed while holding back a smile. The twin boys Hermione was carrying had ballooned in size the past month and a half and Hermione looked like she was hiding a large quaffle underneath her robes.

Harry had even started referring to the babies as "the quaffles" and it had vexed their mother but amused their father. Hermione had thrown up her hands in defeat when her husband had started referring to their future children as "the Cannons" in honor of his favorite Quidditch team.

Ginny sighed, thinking again of Harry and took another swig of her butterbeer. It had been two weeks since he had offered her a job being his partner for the Magical Law Enforcement office and she still didn't have a definite answer for him. He had been surprised when she hadn't immediately accepted the offer but hadn't pushed her. Instead, they had spent every day of the last 14 working on controlling the new power level they had discovered upon merging their magic.

The practice times had been incredible. Ginny hadn't realized how much she had missed training with Harry. The training was different from the work they had done together at Hogwarts but it had brought back many fond memories. They had spent several days sharing magic and casting spells in the field at Potter Glen before deciding they had enough control to bring things closer to civilization. The practicing was beginning to pay off; they were now able to merge at will and had learned several new powerful spells that had an interesting effect when their power was combined.

By the end of the first week of practice, they were able to stop their auras from showing when they shared magic and this made it possible for them to be around other people while staying connected. They had tested themselves in various settings and had even sat through a Friday night Weasley Family Supper while still merged. Bill had looked at them a bit funny but hadn't said anything and even Hermione didn't seem to notice when Ginny's summoning spell brought a blanket zooming towards them with unnatural speed.

There were a few times they had stayed merged for too long and their mutual attraction to one another had overcome them, including one memorable evening when they had met Neville and Luna Longbottom for dinner. They had been merged for 12 hours by the time dessert had arrived and apparently the sight of Ginny licking whipped cream from her spoon had strained Harry's control beyond the point of no return. He watched her with glazed eyes, completely ignoring Neville's merry prattling in his ear and Ginny had noticed with dismay that his green aura was beginning to glimmer. She had stood up abruptly and making a quick excuse to Neville and Luna, shoved Harry out onto the sidewalk and apparated them both back to his house.

She had silently thanked his foresight in adding her to the wards surrounding Grimmauld Place when both of their auras burst into color as soon as they appeared in his living room. Harry had practically thrown her down on the couch and the following ten minutes had been eerily similar to the first time they had practiced sharing magic at Potter Glen. Ginny had participated enthusiastically, knowing they were both so far gone, only a release would calm the connection. Afterwards, Harry had slumped on top of her, groaning in embarrassment and apologizing for wrinkling her silk sheath dress, which he had shoved up around her hips in a feverish exploration of her thighs as they had ground against each other.

Ginny smiled to herself at the memory and felt a brush of butterflies in her stomach when she remembered the promise she had made to herself.

They would be lovers soon, she had sworn silently, and the next time they lost control, they wouldn't be embarrassed by their actions. They had only been dating for three weeks but Ginny had waited long enough. She wore their love with confidence, most of the time, and the constant practicing had gone a long way to rebuilding the trust she had once had in him.

So why was she so reluctant to accept his proposal of a partnership? Working with Harry would be like slipping on an old comfortable pair of shoes and sighing with relief. They would be tremendous together. She knew he loved her—even now if she concentrated, she could feel the shadow of his magic inside of her that pulsated with love for her. She closed her eyes, seeking out that trace and was immediately filled with warmth when Harry, who had obviously felt her searching for him, responded with his own tendril of magic. He was content, probably just arriving at Ron and Hermione's house to pick Ron up for the Quidditch game they were attending that afternoon.

Ginny's heart swelled for this man who loved her. She was going to say yes, was there ever a doubt? She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, how could she not agree to work with him? To begin that life?

Before she had a chance to explore the reasons she had doubted this, Hermione opened the door to the pub and, with a walk that could only be described as the beginning stages of a waddle, made her way towards the table. She collapsed with a distinct lack of grace onto the padded bench across from Ginny.

"How on earth," she asked breathlessly, "am I going to carry these two another four months? Ron is going to have push me around on wheels or something."

"That's what you get for having sex with my great, big, giant git of a brother," Ginny said, her eyes sparkling.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Yes, well, I'm seriously reconsidering the idea. I'm not sure I'll ever let him touch me again."

"Oh come on Hermione. It's only the fifth month—don't be so dramatic. You look gorgeous—you're practically glowing."

Hermione smiled at the compliment and signaled Rosmerta for some herbal tea. "Caffeine is supposed to be bad for the babies," she explained to Ginny, ignoring her friend's rolling of her eyes. "I read about it."

"What a surprise," Ginny said wryly. "Read about it you say? In a book? I didn't know you like to read 'Mione."

"Shut it," Hermione said good-naturedly and beamed while Rosmerta fussed over the bulge underneath her robes before leaving the tea on the table. Ginny and Hermione both ordered the pub's special and Rosmerta walked away, shouting out their order to the cook in the kitchen behind the bar.

"Ginny," Hermione said quietly, "Can you cast a silencing spell around the table? I don't want to be overheard."

"Sure 'Mione," Ginny said confusedly and waved her hand. "Why didn't you just do it?"

Hermione took a sip of her tea before answering. "My magic is a bit off because of the babies. Your mother told me that happened every time she was pregnant—it's perfectly normal. She mentioned her magic being exceptionally powerful when she was pregnant with you actually, although she didn't know what that meant at the time."

"What _did_ it mean?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shrugged. "It just meant that she was carrying a magically powerful baby. It was only after you told everyone how powerful you were that she put two and two together."

"Oh," Ginny said. "I didn't realize."

Hermione smiled. "Just think about what will happen to you when you are pregnant with Harry's children. A product of the magic between you two is certain to be powerful."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Slow down Hermione," she said. "We haven't even slept together yet."

It was the perfect segue to what Hermione wanted to discuss with her friend.

"You haven't?" she asked. "So you…uh…haven't been able to control the power yet?"

Ginny shook her head. "Actually we've been doing quite well with that. We just haven't…you know…found the right time."

Hermione titled her head. "When is the right time?"

Ginny laughed. "Probably when I don't have return home to my parent's house afterwards. That would be too embarrassing. Plus I would probably want to spend the night and no matter how much my parents approve of Harry, I don't think they want to know those details."

Hermione agreed wholeheartedly, thinking of the time Molly had walked in on her and Ron in his old bedroom three years ago. They had been fulfilling a fantasy of Ron's and had thought his parents out for the evening.

"So you've been sharing magic again?" She leaned forward eagerly. "I've been doing a lot of research about this at work and have discovered some very interesting things."

"Like what?" Ginny inquired.

"I'll tell you in a moment," Hermione said, waving Ginny's question aside. "Tell me your side first."

So Ginny explained what she and Harry had been doing. Hermione listened with rapt attention; even gasping in excitement when Ginny mentioned some of the spells they had been working on.

"That's amazing," she breathed. "And what about the…you know…the sexual attraction."

"Well," Ginny said cautiously. "It was really difficult at first but we…er…managed to work through it. But we've discovered an interesting side effect." And she explained about the shadow of magic their merging had left in one another. She was cautious not to reveal too much; she didn't think Harry would want Hermione to know the connection had taken on permanence after things had gotten so out of hand and they had humped like rabbits that first time at Potter Glen.

Hermione leaned back in her seat with a thoughtful expression on her face. "This connection," she said at last, running her fingers along the edge of her teacup. "How exactly did it manifest itself?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, at what point did you discover it? Was there a trigger?"

"Well, yes there was," Ginny said slowly. "It happened after the first time we shared magic during that first practice session…"

"And the trigger?" Hermione prompted.

Ginny sighed. "I'll tell you this but you can't say anything. Harry would be so mortified…"

"Agreed," Hermione said instantly.

"Okay. We merged the magic and then tried to…sort of distract each other from our reactions but that didn't work very well. We sort of…lost control…and um…well, the next thing I knew, we were both down on the ground and he was on top of me and-" Ginny cut off blushing furiously. "Don't make me say it Hermione. Harry will kill me if he finds out I told you this."

Recognition dawned on Hermione's face and she fought to keep a smile from forming. "I see," she said demurely. "And afterwards, what happened?"

Relieved that Hermione had been able to discern what had happened; Ginny eagerly explained how they had discovered the connection and the results of it.

"So you can feel how Harry is feeling? At all times? From any location?" Hermione quizzed.

"Yes, yes and yes," Ginny smiled at her. "But only if I concentrate. He can do the same."

"Wow," Hermione breathed. "That's amazing. I said that already didn't I? Because I want to make sure you know how amazing this is."

"What do you know?" Ginny asked sharply. "It's your turn now. Spill it."

Hermione waited while Rosmerta placed their food in front of them and took a sip of the soup, closing her eyes in appreciation. "Merlin, that's good. I've had the oddest craving for Rosmerta's soup." She wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin and spoke.

"I've spent the last two weeks searching through the Department of Mysteries' archives and really found very little records of wizards and witches who shared magic. Which in of itself is very interesting, in a way."

She paused to take a sip of tea. "It means," she explained, answering Ginny's unspoken question, "that you and Harry are pretty much in uncharted territory here. You'll probably be able to do things that no one has ever heard of before."

"What did the records you _did _find say?" Ginny asked.

Hermione swallowed a mouthful of bread before speaking. "They were fascinating. But only because they contained so little information. All of the couples were male and females—not one wizard-wizard group in the bunch. It leads me to believe that only members of the opposite sex can share magic. Which makes sense if you think about the fact that it takes a compatible couple to share. Only couples who compliment each other, whose magic is compatible and fairly equal, are supposed to be able to do it."

She took another bite of soup and continued. "None of the records said anything about the experience being sexual but then they wouldn't would they? It would have been embarrassing for them to talk about, especially back then."

"Wait a minute," Ginny interrupted, leaning her elbows on the table. "What's the date of the most recent record?"

"1792," Hermione said.

"1792?" Ginny repeated. "You're sure?"

Hermione looked at her exasperatedly. "Have you ever known me to make a mistake like that?"

"So you're saying that no one has been able to share magic in over 200 years? That Harry and I are the first ones in centuries?" She almost laughed; the idea was _that_ impossible to accept. She knew they were powerful, especially Harry, but what Hermione was saying was ridiculous. _Wasn't it?_

"Why us?" she asked bluntly. "I mean, there's nothing special about me," she protested.

"Ginny," Hermione said gently, reaching across the table to take her friend's hand and rubbing her knuckles with her thumb. "I know you can't see it, but you are the most powerful witch I have ever seen. That any of us has ever seen. And Harry, he's unbelievable as well. The two of you, especially when you're together…well, the power is almost overwhelming."

"Hermione-" Ginny began.

"No," Hermione said emphatically, releasing her hand. "I mean it. I am not exaggerating. I don't know why you and Harry have been blessed with this power but this is the way things are. Truthfully, it's lucky that it is you and Harry because anyone else would have probably abused it."

"But we've both been…well…touched by dark magic. Harry had Voldemort in his head for years and the bastard possessed me. It hardly makes sense that after all that, we would even be allowed to yield magic."

Hermione took another bite of her soup and contemplated her friend. When Ginny had first acknowledged what was inside of her, she had a hard time accepting that she was worthy of such power. But for several years now, Ginny had seemed so sure of herself and Hermione was surprised to discover this lack of confidence in her own power.

"Ginny, I don't understand. You've been living with this power for a long time now; I thought you'd accepted it. It's a gift, you know that."

"I know, but when you tell me that Harry and I are the first ones in two centuries—Merlin Hermione, that's a lot to take in."

"I guess so," Hermione conceded. "But I mean it when I say no one else could handle it but you two. I think that because you've both felt the darkness, you appreciate the light more. It's like a guarantee you won't abuse magic. And you're so compatible—I've seen it when you duel other people."

"How do you mean?" Ginny asked, nervously shredding her bread into little pieces.

"Well, like that duel at Hogwarts when you both fought the professors. It was like you could read each other's minds. Harry would fire a spell and you'd follow it up with out even thinking. The way you moved around each other—it was like every move had been choreographed beforehand. I _still_ don't know how you did that. And then there's the whole elemental thing. Harry can control the earth; you control fire—the two elements compliment each other."

Ginny mulled this over. "I suppose," she said finally. "But Hermione, all this magic, it can't just be for looks. There must be something we're supposed to do with it!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I thought I was talking to the Ginny Weasley who had helped defeat the darkest wizard of the age. My mistake I guess."

Ginny waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes," she said, "but the fire goddess thing didn't happen until after that. And we didn't learn how to share magic until two weeks ago. So there must be something we're supposed to do with it."

"I'm sure there is," Hermione agreed. "But you're only 21 years old; give yourself a little time to discover what that is."

Ginny finished the last bite of her soup and drained the rest of her butterbeer. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and sat back, twisting the napkin between her fingers. She really wanted to talk to Hermione about her job offer but she couldn't reveal too much.

"Hermione," she said tentatively. "I've been offered a job-"

Hermione gasped in congratulations. "No, no," Ginny said, rushing to quell her friend's excitement. "It isn't what you think."

"Okay, what is it then? Something with the ministry?"

"I've been offered a job that is very similar to Harry's job," Ginny said slowly. "In fact, I'd be working very closely with him."

"Doing what? Training aurors? Going to different countries and speaking to their governments?"

"Something like that," Ginny said. "But, I've not said yes yet. I'm worried…about working with Harry."

"Why?"

Hermione forced herself to let Ginny do the talking. She had her suspicions about Harry's real job and now, it seemed, Ginny would be doing the same work. Another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place. Hermione knew she could never reveal what she suspected but it was gratifying to know that she was probably right. The ministry didn't recruit the two most powerful wizards in England for desk jobs.

"I guess…I'm just worried…we'd be spending a lot of time together. What if," Ginny gulped, "what if he gets tired of me or something? What if we decide that our whole relationship is based on the sexual attraction we feel when we share magic?"

"Are you really worried about that?" Hermione asked quietly.

Ginny nodded.

"Well…I can't blame you for being insecure about this. Harry rejected you, lied to you for years about it and you've just started trusting him again. You're bound to have these sorts of moments. But Ginny-" Hermione reached across and grasped her friend's hand again. "You've just told me you can feel what Harry is feeling if you really concentrate. You must know how he feels. I can't possibly feel what he is feeling and even I know it. I've seen the way he looks at you and I remember the way he _always_ looked at you. He loves you, I know that beyond all doubt and you should too."

"Sometimes I am very confident in our love," Ginny said softly, lacing her fingers through Hermione's. "But other times, I panic. I can't stop myself. I trust him, I really do, but what if he's been fooling himself all these years? What if the more time we spend together, the more he realizes that I'm not what he wanted?"

She withdrew her hand and slumped in her seat, putting her head in her hands. "He's got me on such a pedestal 'Mione. I'm afraid I can't possibly live up to what he's built up his memory of me into."

"And you didn't do the same to him?"

Ginny lifted her face from her hands to stare at her. "What do you mean?"

"Honestly Ginny," Hermione said impatiently. "You've been in love with Harry for 10 years, are you telling me that you didn't have some glorious picture of him in your head? Some 'fantasy Harry?'"

"I suppose I did," Ginny said, startled. She was quiet for a moment. "I guess," she continued, "when he admitted that he had been lying to me for all those years, that picture was destroyed."

"And you fell in love with him anyway," Hermione pointed out. "So what makes you think Harry won't still love you when he realizes you aren't perfect? If he hasn't already that is—it's pretty obvious you aren't."

"Git," Ginny shot at her, grinning. "I love it when you insult me. Makes me realize what an effect Ron has had on you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know. I never used to swear until I started hanging out with him." She stopped and searched her friend's face. "Do you feel better? Did that help?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "I think so. I really need to tell Harry about why I've been putting off accepting the offer. It's probably going to get pretty mushy but you're right, as always, I know he loves me. I don't think he'd be able to lie about that. Unless he's been lying to himself…"

"Stop that," Hermione warned. "You'll ruin things and just get more insecure if you continue over-analyzing things. You need to learn to trust in Harry's feelings and your own."

"And you know," she continued. "The sexual attraction—it's really great in the beginning but after awhile it sort of mellows out. Being in a relationship is less about sex than you'd think. The urgency you feel to have each other in the beginning goes away eventually."

"I don't know Hermione," Ginny shuddered. "You haven't felt what is inside of him. I don't see how I'll ever get used to it. It does things to me…"

"Yes, about that," Hermione smirked. "I want to know all about what Harry 'does' to you. And talk slowly, I've been waiting for years to get some good dirt on him."

Ginny laughed and couldn't stop herself from having a good old fashioned girl chat with her best friend for the next hour. They said goodbye at the door but just as Hermione was walking away, Ginny cried, "Wait!" Hermione turned back around and Ginny hurried up to her.

"I wanted to say hello to the twins," she said sheepishly.

"Oh-kay," Hermione said slowly, a bit confused. Hadn't she already said hello to them?

She watched as Ginny placed her hands on her swollen belly and then gasped when warmth washed over her womb. Hermione immediately felt content, and any pain she felt as a result of the pregnancy vanished. Oh yeah, she remembered now, Ginny was an empath.

"There you are," Ginny murmured, closing her eyes in concentration. "Hello little darlings." She bent down and rested her forehead on Hermione's stomach. "I'm your Aunt Ginny and I can't wait to see you. Your mummy and daddy love you very much and are so excited to meet you..."

Hermione watched in amusement as Ginny spent a few minutes whispering to her womb as if the babies could actually hear her. Well, maybe they could—Ginny could do things she had never seen before.

Finally straightening up and removing her hands, Ginny grinned at her. "I think you're going to have your hands full with these."

Hermione groaned and then said anxiously, "They're okay though? Healthy and everything?"

"They're wonderful 'Mione," Ginny said softly. She leaned forward to kiss her friend on the cheek and gave her a quick hug. After finally saying goodbye, Ginny apparated straight to Grimmauld Place where she made herself comfortable on the living room couch to await Harry's return.

It was after 5 p.m. when Harry finally dropped a raucous Ron off at his house and apparated back to Grimmauld Place. The Cannon's game had gone on for five hours and Harry had seen the snitch six times before the Tornadoes seeker managed to catch it. It had snowed the entire time. He was cold and wet and desperately hoped Ginny was waiting for him at home. He could use some of that fire goddess stuff right about now.

With a soft pop, he apparated into the front hall of Grimmauld Place and took off his wet cloak and shoes, conjuring up a towel to dry his hair. He saw a light from the living room shining into the hallway and walked through the doorway to find Ginny curled up, napping on the couch. His face softened and he padded silently in his stocking feet over to her. Squatting down on his heels, he smoothed the hair away from her face and kissed her softly on the forehead.

Ginny slowly opened her eyes to find Harry smiling at her.

"Hi Nix," he said. "Been waiting long?"

Ginny stretched like a cat causing Harry's eyes to darken when the movement caused her sweater to pull tightly over her chest, emphasizing her breasts.

"Not really," she yawned. "Just a couple of hours. I read for awhile and then fell asleep." She lifted her face for a kiss and he brushed her lips once, twice before pulling away and standing up.

Moving to the end of the couch, he lifted her legs and sat down on the couch, settling her legs on his lap. He rubbed a hand up and down her calf, letting her warmth seep into him, driving away the cold of the last five hours.

"How was the game?" Ginny asked.

"Cannons lost," he answered absentmindedly. "Took forever though, I thought I was going to die of hypothermia." He continued to stroke her leg, eventually slipping his hand underneath her trouser leg to rub her bare skin.

"Poor baby," Ginny teased. "Here." She sat up, her legs still in his lap and placed a hand on his neck. A lovely warmth spread along his skin from underneath her hand and the cold that had seemed to take up permanent residence inside of him disappeared. He sighed in contentment and relaxed back into the sofa.

"You're really handy to have around," Harry said and pulled on her legs, tugging her up into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she curled up into him like a cat. He rested his head on top of hers.

"I missed you today," he said quietly. "I miss you whenever you aren't around. Do you think something is wrong with me? Is it normal to miss someone this much when you see them everyday anyway?"

"I don't know, probably not but then we've never been normal have we?" Ginny responded, snuggling closer to him and tucking her head into the crook of his neck. She placed a soft kiss on his skin and inhaled deeply. He smelled like the outdoors. "Harry," she ventured, "we need to talk."

Harry took a deep breath. He'd suspected this conversation was coming. Ginny hadn't mentioned his job offer in two weeks and he'd been trying not to push her. But the ministry was waiting and it was just a matter of time before they asked him to go on another mission. He didn't want to leave without her.

"Okay," he said cautiously.

Ginny slid off of his lap and scooted to the other side of couch tucking her bare feet underneath her. "I appreciate the patience you've had with me about the job offer," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I want to explain to you why I didn't say yes right away-"

"Are you saying 'yes' now?" Harry interrupted.

She smiled at him. "Yes, I am." Harry's heart soared. "But I really want to explain my reasons for taking so long."

Harry stretched out his legs, propping them up on the table in front of him. "Okay," he said again.

Ginny sighed heavily and hugged her knees to her chest. She had a bad feeling he wasn't going to like the insecurity she still had about his feelings for her.

"Harry," she said finally. "I was nervous because of our relationship." He stiffened and she continued before he could protest. "I love you very much, you know that, you can feel it inside of me." He nodded in agreement. "And I can feel you love me." He nodded some more. "But if we work together, we'll be spending a lot of time together and well…I was worried that you would…sort of…get tired of me."

Harry inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. How could she ever think that? He'd spent his whole life waiting for her.

"I know you say you've been in love with me for years," she continued, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened at her statement, "but I feel like you've built me up on this pedestal and I'm afraid I can't live up to it." She gulped nervously.

"I worry that you'll realize I'm not as great as you thought I was and that you'll want out. I'm not always easy to get along with and I have a really big temper and well…obviously I over-analyze things all the time, and I'm messy, stubborn, and I'm sure I'll drive you crazy-"

She cut off as Harry stood up, a menacing look on his face. He knelt in front of her and yanked her towards him until she was perched on the edge of the couch and he was kneeling between her legs.

"You have felt what is inside of me," Harry said in a deadly calm voice, looking into her eyes. "You KNOW that I love you with every fiber of my being. You know everything there is to know about me—the good and the bad—and you still love me don't you?"

"Yes," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "So very much."

"Then you have so little respect for me, so little trust in me that you can't accept the same from me?"

"It's not that simple," she said, raising her chin stubbornly. "I'm just afraid of disappointing you."

Harry sat back on his heels, dumbfounded. How could she ever think that? Had he not spent enough time telling her how much he loved her, showing her how much he wanted her? She could never disappoint him. He was only disappointed in himself for the way he had treated her.

Ginny sighed again, running her fingers through her hair.

"This has happened very fast," she said, "Us, I mean. It's only been a little over a month since I got home and sometimes I find I'm still getting used to the idea that you're in love with me. I can't help but feel insecure about it, despite what I've felt in you. I know it sounds silly, especially after everything we've been through together, but Harry," she stretched her hands towards him beseechingly, "this is how women are. We get a little insecure sometimes. I was afraid that if we work together, you would discover that you've somehow convinced yourself you were in love with me and after spending so much time with me, you would find that you weren't."

She shrugged. "I know it sounds crazy but I've only ever been in love with you and for most of that time, you didn't love me back so I'm not really used to being in a serious relationship where someone returned my feelings."

Harry contemplated her for a moment.

"This is not a side of you I see very often," he said finally, his eyes searching her face. "Normally you're really very confident…" he trailed off, his heart sinking. She was insecure because he had ignored her feelings for so long.

"This is really my fault," he said slowly. "I hid my feelings for so long, of course you would be insecure about them. I suppose I was being a bit naïve that you had accepted them completely."

She leaned forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I do accept them," she said fiercely. "I just don't think I'll be able to handle it if you decide to take them back and so I've got this defense mechanism that makes me want to prepare for the worst. It's hard to get used to the idea that you really want me sometimes. I'm sorry I'm so weak about this."

"No," he said, standing up and making a decision. "I can't blame you for having your doubts about my feelings. But Ginny, I'm never going to take them back. I haven't in six years, even if you didn't know about them."

He pivoted on his heel, taking her hand and leading her towards the stairs. "C'mon, I want to show you something."

"Show me what?" she asked, confused by the sudden turn of events. "Where are you taking me?"

"To my bedroom," came the reply and he dragged her stumbling up the stairs.

"Harry," she said, now amused. "You don't have to make love to me to show me that you love me, this probably isn't the best time-" But she was cut off when they reached the top of the stairs and he spun around, pinning her to the wall.

"When I take you," he said in a low voice, "when we make love, there will never be a WRONG time. So get that idea out of your head right now."

He slanted his mouth over hers, thoroughly dominating her with his kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as if he was anxious to claim her, to mark her as his. He broke away after a moment, panting. "But that is not why I've brought you up here." Without another word, he pushed himself off of her and pulled her behind him, her eyes still glazed from his kiss. They entered his bedroom and he let go of her hand, shutting the door behind them.

Ginny looked around his bedroom. She hadn't seen it before but she couldn't say she was surprised. It was a true Gryffindor's bedroom. A large four-poster bed with red velvet hangings was reminiscent of the beds they had slept in at Hogwarts. In fact, she realized, turning slowly to take everything in, the whole room looked a bit like Gryffindor house at Hogwarts. A seating area in the corner looked like their old common room. The furniture was dark wood and the room was covered in gold and red accents, the colors of Gryffindor. Several of the pieces actually had lions and griffins carved into the wood.

It felt, she thought, like _home_. She turned back to Harry to find him smiling at her sheepishly.

"Hogwarts was the first place that felt like home," he said simply.

Ginny understood and smiled at him encouragingly. "It's lovely," she said. "I really like it."

A delighted smile came over his face and he moved towards her, backing her into the wall and pinning her against it again.

"What is it with you trapping me against the wall Potter?" she said irritably.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding at all remorseful. "I'm just trying to make sure you can't get away." He slipped his arms around her waist and yanked her towards him. His lips hovered over hers and his eyes darkened.

"Seeing you here, in my bedroom, where I've imagined you so many times…" his eyes slid towards the bed and Ginny followed, gulping as she pictured them in that bed. She could almost see Harry's bare back, his muscles bunching as he moved over her, the blood-red blankets around his waist. She shuddered and arched into him, sliding her arms up around his shoulders and pressed her lips against his.

He groaned and she took advantage by slipping her tongue in his mouth, tasting him. He tasted like butterbeer and peppermint. He always tasted a bit like peppermint.

He hugged her tighter to him for a moment and then with a muttered oath, tore himself from her mouth and gently pushed her away.

"Sorry," he said, now sounding sincere. "I really would like to continue that but I was serious when I said I wanted to show you something."

"Okay," Ginny managed, still a bit dizzy. "What is it?"

For an answer, he walked over to a wardrobe and opened it, pulling out his pensieve. He hesitated, his hands on either side of the basin with his swirling memories as he looked up at her.

"I have a memory," he said slowly, "that I would like to view. I hope it will convince you that I have always seen YOU…that I've never wanted anyone else that it's always been you."

"That's a pretty tall order," she commented, going over to stand next to him. She laid a hand on his arm and was surprised to find him trembling.

"Harry," she said concernedly. "What is it?"

"It's just…I've never shared a memory with someone before," he said shakily. "It was all I could do to view them myself."

"Why did you then? If they're so hard."

He turned tortured eyes to her. "It helped with the nightmares. Ginny, these are really private and the memory here, well…it might surprise you."

"Why?" she asked softly.

"I told you that no one knew how I felt about you," he said slowly, "but that wasn't entirely true. Dumbledore…he guessed and he confronted me about it. We had a big row but before he could continue his quest to convince me you should know about my feelings, Voldemort killed him."

"Oh Harry," Ginny sighed, putting a hand on the back of his neck. Harry immediately felt the tension disappearing. "Did you get a chance to make up before he died?"

Harry had taken Dumbledore's death very hard—they both had. He had been their professor, their mentor and their friend. He had died shortly after the battle at Hogsmeade. Voldemort had apparated into Diagon Alley and started killing people in the streets. Fawkes had flashed Dumbledore to the scene and he, along with the Order of the Phoenix, had saved hundreds of lives before facing Voldemort. Weakened and injured himself, he had given everything he had to fight Voldemort.

Harry and Ginny had not been at the battle as they were both recovering from injuries they'd received at Hogsmeade and it had made the loss even harder to accept.

"We did," he whispered, closing his eyes. It still hurt to think about Professor Dumbledore.

"At the funeral I realized that I was glad he died knowing that I loved you. He wanted so much for me—a normal life for one—and I think it pleased him knowing that I was experiencing a perfectly normal feeling for a girl. That's probably why he got so irritated with me…" his voice trailed off and he placed the tip of his wand on his head, drawing out the memory and letting it float down towards the basin. It swirled around and Ginny could see a row of white beds in the bowl.

"Is that the Hogwart's hospital wing?" she asked.

"Yes," he said dully, gripping her hand. "This is right after you were injured during the fight at Hogsmeade."

"You were injured too," she pointed out.

"Not as bad as you," he said simply. "But then I didn't jump in front of a curse for anyone—you did."

Ginny bristled. "We are not going to have this argument again for the 47th-hundred time-"

"Ginny," he interrupted. "I wasn't trying to start the argument again. I was just trying to set up the memory for you."

Ginny took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, "let's go."

Still holding hands, they both leaned forward and fell into the memory, landing with a thump on the stone floor of the Hogwart's hospital wing.

"Ouch," Harry said, getting to his feet and reaching a hand down to help her up. "I never get used to that."

"That hurt," Ginny grumped, rubbing her backside. Harry grinned at her.

"Need some help?" he asked innocently, placing a hand on one cheek. Before he could commence with the rubbing, she scurried away from him, slapping at his hand.

"Quit that, we're supposed to be viewing your memory, not groping."

"Right," Harry said, turning back to the scene in front of them. He nodded towards the people in front of them.

"That's you, right after you stepped in front of that curse for me. I was so scared for you…" his voice trailed off as he remembered the panic he had felt when Ginny had shoved him aside and took a curse straight to the chest during the fighting at Hogsmeade.

The battle had been nearly over; the death eaters apparating away when they realized they were outnumbered. One last holdout had shot a purple-colored spell towards Harry when he had been looking for Ginny and everything had happened almost in slow motion. Ginny had run up to him from his other side, barreling into him and knocking him down, letting the curse hit her full-on before crumpling to the ground.

She hadn't woken up for three days and they had been the longest days of Harry's life.

"The idea that I hadn't been able to protect you…it nearly killed me," he finished.

Ginny squeezed his hand and pulled him over to the couple in front of them. Her 16-year-old self was lying in the bed, pale and wan, almost lifeless. She didn't remember much about those days. She had been completely unconscious for three days and when she had finally woken up, she had drifted in and out of consciousness for the next two.

After she had regained some of her strength, she and Harry had a huge row where he raged at her for almost getting herself killed, screaming at her that he wasn't worth dying for. She had screamed right back at him that he was worth it and she would do it all over again if it meant saving her best friend.

Once he had gotten over his anger with her, he had been so relieved she was all right that he had held her so tightly she thought he was going to squeeze the life out of her.

She looked at the Harry sitting by her bedside. He looked awful. There were dark circles under his red eyes and he obviously hadn't shaved or showered in days. A tray of half-eaten food was beside him on the floor and he was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing during the battle in Hogsmeade.

She watched as he reached out a hand and gently laced his fingers through hers. He slid off the chair to his knees and bent his head over her prone body, resting his forehead on her right hip.

"Please wake up Nix," he whispered. "Please Ginny…I can't…I can't…I don't know how to…I can't live without you."

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to the back of the hand he was still clenching in his own. Ginny was surprised to find that he was crying. He let go of her hand and crawled up into her hospital bed, stretching himself along the side of her body and pulling her close, burying his face in her hair.

"I love you," he breathed into her ear, his eyes shut tight. "I have loved you for a long time and I promise that I will tell you this someday when you are awake. You have no idea how much I've wanted to say this to you. Gods Ginny, when you took that curse, I have never been so frightened in my whole entire life. So you have to wake up because once you do, I am going to kick your arse for scaring me so much."

The Ginny viewing the memory laughed a little but the Ginny on the bed had no response. Memory Harry opened his eyes and settled into the pillow, staring at her features. He was still and silent for several moments; watching her as if he might miss any movement that would indicate she was waking up.

Ginny heard the door to the hospital wing open and held her breath when she got her first glimpse of Albus Dumbledore in four years. There were those twinkling eyes, the long, snowy white beard and the elaborate robes he wore, swishing silently as he walked towards the bed. She'd forgotten how much presence he had.

Harry heard him coming and quickly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He remained seated, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Dumbledore approached him and wordlessly handed him a handkerchief. Harry took it and blew his nose, apparently not embarrassed to be seen crying in front of Dumbledore. Ginny guessed it wasn't the first time their professor had seen him cry.

Dumbledore took a seat in the chair Harry had vacated earlier and regarded Harry silently.

"Harry," he finally said gently.

Ginny closed her eyes and let the voice of her mentor wash over her—it had been too long since she'd heard it.

"Ginny will be just fine. Madame Pomfrey has assured me she will make a full recovery."

"I know sir," Harry said, looking down at his feet. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I just can't believe she did that."

"Took the curse for you?" Dumbledore asked. "Why should that surprise you? Miss Weasley is a loyal friend who would take many curses for those she cares about…for those she loves."

Harry remained silent, staring at the floor.

"Would you not have done the same for her?"

Harry's head snapped up and his eyes shone green. "In a minute," he said fiercely. "But I don't want her to do it for me. She shouldn't have to get hurt because of me."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, contemplating Harry.

"I do not think you are being fair," he said finally. "It was Ginny's choice to take that curse for you. She did it because she cares deeply for you. And it is only fair to allow friends you are willing to die for, do the same for you."

Harry stood up, clearly agitated, and began pacing back and forth at the end of the bed.

"No," he said, abruptly stopping to face Ginny. "She does not get to die. Not this friend. I don't care if it isn't fair, she is NOT going to die for me."

Dumbledore tilted his head and Ginny noticed that he surreptitiously waved a hand in the direction of her bed; probably throwing a silencing charm over her bed so they wouldn't disturb her.

"Harry," he said wearily. "Ginny is not going to die. But I think it is time you admitted why you value this friend above all others."

Harry immediately looked shifty and refused to meet his professor's eyes. "She's my best friend and my training partner. She is very important to me, to her family. It would kill them if she died."

Dumbledore huffed in frustration. He appeared to be reaching the end of his tether and Ginny was surprised. Normally he had more patience than this. She suspected he must have been really worn out and cranky.

"Harry," he said sharply. "It is more than that and I believe you know it. I cannot begin to imagine why you have kept your feelings hidden but it is time you told her the truth."

"What could you possibly know about how my feelings," Harry spat at him. Ginny was taken aback by the vehemence with which he spoke.

Dumbledore stood up and folded his hands in his sleeves. He was regal and looked as if he was steeling himself for something. "I know that you care deeply for her. I can tell by the way you look at her. And I know that she is in love with you—I suspect you know that as well. What I do not know is why you have not confessed the truth about your feelings to her!"

Harry, who had been pacing again, whirled on Dumbledore. "The truth!" he shouted at him. "You want the truth? Fine! I'll tell you but when Voldemort comes crashing through that door for her-" he broke off panting, his chest heaving as he stared Dumbledore down.

"When Ginny took that curse for me," he began in a low voice, "I thought she was dead. I thought that I had lost her and I don't think I could go on…I don't think I would have the strength to kill Voldemort without her."

"And why is that Harry?" Dumbledore persisted.

Harry sank into a nearby chair, his head in his hands. "I love her okay," he groaned through his fingers. "Why are you making me say this?"

"Confession is good for the soul Harry."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. "I don't want to confess," he said brokenly. "I don't want anyone to know-"

"Why not? I suspect Miss Weasley would be very pleased to hear how you feel about her."

Harry stood up and strode over to Dumbledore in two quick steps. He grasped the front of the older man's robes and with a strength that shocked Ginny, yanked him close.

"Don't you dare tell her," he hissed at him, his eyes turning dark green. "I will NOT put her danger. If you tell her, if people find out, Voldemort will know and then he will come after her and if he does, I will hunt you down after I'm through with him."

"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes turning a dark blue. "Let go of me. I am not your enemy."

Harry let go of his robes and stepped back, a startled look on his face. "I'm sorry professor," he stammered.

"Quite all right Harry," Dumbledore soothed. "I sometimes forget how strong you can be when protecting your friends."

Harry walked over to stand beside Ginny, looking down at her.

"I love her professor," he said quietly. "I love her more than my own life. She's wonderful, isn't she?" He looked up at Dumbledore as if seeking approval for his choice.

Dumbledore nodded, the twinkle in his eyes returning in full force. "She is an extraordinary witch," he agreed.

"Yeah," Harry said softly, looking back down at Ginny lying on the bed.

"I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to realize that. She was so shy you know? She wouldn't ever talk to me, always running out of the room when I walked in." He laughed at the memory. "And then I got to know her, really know her. She's amazing. Fierce, strong, powerful, stubborn, funny, beautiful…a temper like you wouldn't believe and incredibly messy. She'd sooner fall off her broom than hang out with a bunch of giggly girls, she curses like a sailor sometimes, eats like a horse and she can beat me up with one hand tied behind her back. Her brothers are scared to death of her and I can see why…although I've never been scared of her. I've always known that she wouldn't ever hurt me."

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, scratching two days growth of beard. "I know she loves me and I wish like hell I was free to love her back but Voldemort is out to kill me and what do you think he would do to the girl Harry Potter loves? I have never felt like this before, it scares the shite out of me. But it scares me even more to think that she could be in danger because of how I feel about her."

He looked back at Dumbledore, a hard, blazing look on his face. "She's not perfect but she's perfect for ME. I will NOT let him get her Professor. That bastard cannot have her."

"What makes you think he won't try to take her anyway?" Dumbledore inquired. "Everyone knows that you are friends and he has surely heard of how powerful she is. She is also the girl who fought his possession for a year; he will want to finish what he started."

"All the more reason to keep this a secret," Harry declared. "She needs every advantage she can get."

"Ginny can take care of herself-"

"That's not the point," Harry interrupted. "I need to know that she is safe. As safe as I can make her. I can't keep her from fighting but I'll be damned if I'm going to give Voldemort another reason to come after her."

"How do you think it would make Ginny feel if she knew you were keeping this from her?" Dumbledore argued, switching tactics and raising his voice. "She's been in love with you for years, being with you would make her happy."

"She won't be very happy if she's dead," Harry said stonily.

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed, sitting back down in the chair beside the bed, "the prophecy states you will have a power that Voldemort will never have. I have told you I believe this power to be love. If I am right then you need her more than you can possibly imagine."

"I love her more than you can _possibly_ _imagine_," Harry said firmly. "And I will not let him take her away from me. He's already taken my parents and Sirius."

Dumbledore stood back up and crossed over to Harry. He placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"I am afraid you are being very foolish Harry. It is foolish to deny what so obviously gives you strength. But if you are determined this will protect her… then…I will keep your secret."

"Thank you Professor," Harry said fervently.

"But Harry," Dumbledore continued. "Do not wait too long to tell her. Despite your best efforts to protect her, it may not be enough. I don't want you to have to live with the knowledge that you never got to tell her how you feel about her. To live with that regret would surely be more painful than anything you have experienced so far."

"If she dies," Harry whispered fiercely, "I will not live anyway. If she dies, that kills me too."

He twisted back to look down at the figure on the bed and the memory faded.

Ginny found herself standing back in Harry's bedroom in Grimmauld Place. She whirled around to face him, a wide-eyed expression on her face.

He smiled faintly at her. "I know," he said. "That was a bit much. I was going through a dramatic phase I think."

Ginny launched herself at him, hopping up to wrap her legs around his waist and burying her face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled. "I'm sorry you had to live like that."

Her heart had broken watching the scene. It was bad enough that Harry had lost his parents and his godfather and had to spend what should have been the happiest years of his life fighting off an evil wizard. But for the first time, Ginny could really imagine what it must have been like for him to deny himself the joy of love. When she had read his journal three weeks ago, the turmoil he had been in was obvious, but watching his memory just now…well she had SEEN the turmoil first hand. It was an awful way to live. She couldn't imagine how he was still sane. He had sounded so terrified…

He didn't say anything, just hugged her back, inhaling her scent. It had been awful to view that memory. His emotions had been haywire those few days Ginny had been out and he had fluctuated between guilt that she was injured, anger that she would try to sacrifice herself for him and love for the motionless girl on the bed. Even now he couldn't believe he had spoken to Dumbledore that way. Merlin, he'd threatened the wizard, even manhandled him.

"I'm sorry I've been such a prat," Ginny whispered.

"You're not a prat," Harry said instantly, his voice muffled in her hair. "I don't blame you for doubting me. I deserve that and so much more."

"No you don't," she said firmly, letting her legs drop to the floor. "You deserve every bit of happiness I can give you and I promise to not be so wishy-washy about us anymore."

Harry smiled at her, letting her step away from him. "I guess we both have things to work on."

"How 'bout we start by you taking me out to dinner?"

Two hours later Harry couldn't believe his luck to be walking into the restaurant with Ginny. His fire goddess looked unbelievable.

When he had gone to pick her up at the Burrow and she had walked down the stairs, Harry felt like someone had punched him right in the chest. She was so beautiful and he loved her so much—it had all come crashing down on him with his first look at her. Her hair fell in red waves to her waist. She was dressed in a silky green dress that hugged her figure and came to just above her knees. It was sleeveless and the neck scooped down to fall in soft folds over her chest, exposing a hint of cleavage. She was wearing strappy high heels—the type that Harry had once heard Tonks refer to as…well…it wasn't a very nice word. Her only jewelry was a thin gold cuff bracelet wrapped around her upper arm. It was unusual and when he had fingered it later she had told him it was a Celtic design.

After the muggle waiter had seated them, Harry leaned forward and murmured, "Have I mentioned how fabulous you look?"

"Only 10 or 47 times," Ginny said smiling at him over her menu. "I think the last description you used was 'bloody brilliant.' Of course you had me backed against the wall in that alley and you were whispering so I might have misheard you."

"You didn't mishear," Harry said firmly. "Now hurry up and eat because I really need to get you home and kiss that spot on your neck that makes you purr."

"Harry!" Ginny hissed, looking around them. "Ssshhh, the muggles will hear you."

"Easy there tiger," he said amused by the fire flaming in her eyes. He wondered if it was for fear of being overheard or for the desire he felt spiking in her.

"I cast a silencing charm over the table when I sat down."

Ginny lost the battle and laughed out loud. "You think of everything," she said, her eyes twinkling.

His eyes darkened, "I think of you…constantly. You're driving me crazy Nix."

The gold rim in her eyes started to swirl. "Me too," she said huskily. "Harry, I think

I'm-" But she was cut off by the arrival of the waiter. Harry ordered without taking his eyes off of her and she couldn't help blushing under his gaze.

When he had gotten rid of the waiter he leaned forward to grasp her hand. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," she said smiling at him. "We'll talk about it later."

Harry was disappointed. He sensed that whatever she had been about to say was important, but respectful of her wishes, he changed the topic. "Do you really want to come and work with me?"

"Yes," she said honestly. "But I need some help. I've been thinking about it and we're going to need a cover story for my parents."

"Already done," he replied instantly. "Officially, you are the assistant to the Ambassador to the Magical Governments of Europe."

"And who is the Ambassador?" she asked quizzically.

"Me," he said with a toothy grin. "I've been promoted. Congratulate me."

Ginny groaned. "Does this mean you are going to be my boss?" she said with a distasteful look on her face. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Well I suppose on paper I'll be listed as your supervisor but we're going to be partners. Our boss knows it and that's what matters."

"Who is our boss?" she asked. "Will I get to meet him?"

"I can set up an appointment next week if you like." He coughed. "I uh…think he's got something he wants us to do for him."

Ginny pursed her lips, thinking. "Why the official title?"

Harry shrugged. "A better cover I suppose. Now that I have a partner, I'm going to need an excuse for traveling with you. If you're my assistant," he stopped to smirk at her, "then it's only natural you'd travel with me."

"Okay Potter," she said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. "I'm going to need a new place to live. I can't be coming home at odd hours, possibly with injuries, to the Burrow. My parents will get suspicious. And I'm going to need a new wardrobe. If I'm going to be meeting with governments and fancy people, I need to look the part."

"We'll go shopping tomorrow," Harry said distantly. He was only half listening; his eyes were fixed on the stocking-covered leg she had crossed over her knee and was currently swinging gently up and down. The movement transfixed him. He could just imagine his hand sliding up that slim, muscled calf.

"And I want you to move in with me."

Ginny's leg stopped moving and Harry broke out of his trance with a start to find her gaping at him. "What did you say?" she finally choked out.

Harry wracked his brain, going over his words in his head. He hadn't really been paying attention to what he was saying…o_h_…now he remembered. Bugger. He hadn't meant to bring that up so soon. Of course he wanted her to but he thought he would give her a few months to herself before he broached the subject with her. He let out a breath.

"I'm sorry," he said ruefully. "I didn't mean to bring that up so soon. Its just well…it would be really convenient and there's plenty of room and well, my house is locked up tighter than Hogwarts so you'd be safe there…" his voice trailed off. He was rambling and she was still staring at him.

"Harry," she finally managed. "We've been together less than a month and you want me to move in with you? Don't you think that's a bit soon?"

"Well," he said sheepishly, running a nervous hand through his hair, "you could have your own room if you wanted. And Ginny…damn…" he let out a breath.

"Sod it," he said suddenly, and reached across the table, grasping both of her hands in his.

"I love you," he said firmly, looking into her eyes. "I want to be with you every minute of every day and if this is too soon for you then I understand. But Nix, I mean it. I want you to be with me…forever. I'm sorry if that scares you but it's the only commitment I know how to make to you. I told you after that duel. You're mine and everyone might as well know that now."

"Can I…can I have some time to think about it?" she asked uncertainly. "I agree it would be very convenient but well, this is a big step. I know I want to be with you forever but I don't want to rush things."

"I understand," he said, sitting back. "And I'm sorry I sprung that on you. It just sort of slipped out. Take all the time you need."

"Can…can I come sit over there with you?" she asked tentatively. They had been seated in a booth and she suddenly felt the need to be near him, to touch him.

"Of course you can baby," he said tenderly and lifted his right arm for her to slip into as she got up from her side of the table and slid into his. She instantly snuggled into his embrace and let her magic reach out for him. He reacted instantly and their magic merged for the first time in hours.

He sighed as he felt her magic pour into him. Merlin that felt good.

"**Is tú mo ghrá**," she breathed, her eyes closed, "a chuisle mo chroí, g**rá mo chroí."**

**"What does that mean?" he asked. **

**"Oh, sorry," she said, lifting her head and opening her eyes to look at him. "It means 'I love you, pulse of my heart, love of my heart.' Guess I got a little carried away."**

**"I liked it," he said quietly. "I like being the pulse of your heart."**

**Ginny took his hand and used his fingers to find the pulse at her throat. "Do you feel that?"**

**"Yes," he said huskily. **

**"That's my pulse. And it beats for you, always for you," she whispered, looking into his glowing green eyes. **

**Without worrying about the fact they were in a crowded restaurant in muggle London, Harry kissed her, capturing her lips with a soft moan. She instantly melted into him. Her arms lifted to encircle his neck and his hands slid around her waist to the small of her back. He kissed her thoroughly, slowly exploring the recesses of her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own. She let out a small sigh and just as he pulled her closer, he heard a loud "ahem." **

**Harry lifted his head, irritated with the interruption, to find the waiter standing over them with their drinks. **

**"Sorry sir," the waiter said, not sounding at all sorry. **

**"S'fine," Harry grumped, pulling away from Ginny. This man was not on his way to a big tip.**

**Ginny thought briefly about being embarrassed that the waiter had broken up their kissing but decided she didn't care who saw her kiss Harry. They were in muggle London, no one knew them anyway. **

**They spent the rest of the meal engrossed in conversation about the past four years. Ginny smiled wistfully when Harry described Ron and Hermione's wedding and he laughed when she described how Ron had taken Hermione to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris to propose to her. **

**"She thought they were just coming to visit me," Ginny said. "Instead she gets proposed to in the most clichéd way possible. I think there were three other couples getting engaged on top of the tower that night."**

**"What did he say to her?" Harry asked, swallowing a mouthful of bread.**

**Ginny rolled her eyes. "He told her that when he met her, he was only half a person. But when she started dating him, he became three-fourths a person. So it would make him really happy if she would agree to be his wife and make him a complete person." **

**Harry groaned for his friend and took a sip of his wine. "He never told me that."**

**"Well it was the ick heard round the world, I doubt he wanted to repeat it," Ginny said laughing. **

**Sometime later, Harry and Ginny were strolling arm in arm down the sidewalk towards Grimmauld Place. It was chilly outside but Ginny was at full fire goddess power and Harry wasn't cold at all. **

**"Have I mentioned how handy you are to have around?" he said, hugging her closer.**

**"Once or twice," she said, her eyes sparkling.**

**"What do you want to do now?" Harry asked as they walked up the front steps and he opened the front door for her. She stepped inside and spun around, her eyes lit up. **

**"Can we watch a movie?" she asked excitedly.**

**"A movie?" Harry repeated. "Sure, but you watch them all the time with Tonks and Hermione. I didn't think it was that big of a deal."**

**"Yes but you have that enormous television—it'll be just like sitting in a movie theater!"**

**"Okay," Harry smiled at her excitement. "C'mon upstairs with me, I've got some old sweat pants you can change into so you'll be more comfortable."**

**She followed him up the stairs into his bedroom and waited while he rummaged in his closet, finally pulling out an old Gryffindor t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants and handing them to her.**

**"Think you'll be getting these back?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.**

**"Not likely," he retorted. He walked back to the door. "Come downstairs to the T.V. room when you've finished."**

**Ginny was already reaching for the zipper in the back of her dress when he shut the door behind him. Harry clenched his fists, trying not to imagine opening the zipper for her with his teeth. Wait a minute…bugger. He'd meant to tell her to get some socks from his drawer as well. **

**Harry would later excuse what happened next as a result of the brief moment of insanity brought on by his mental image of Ginny undressing in his room. He opened the door, intending to explain about the socks, completely forgetting that Ginny had been pulling down her zipper not five seconds ago. **

**Her dress fell with a soft swish to her feet just as Harry stepped through the door and she stood frozen in mid-movement, looking at him with wide eyes.**

**Harry's mouth went dry. He had not seen so much of Ginny's skin since a summer they had spent at the Burrow five years ago, swimming in the pond. He'd barely been able to contain himself then and now that she was grown up…her body was …Merlin. She was wearing the tiniest bits of black lace he had ever seen. A lacy bra pushed her breasts up and riding low on her hips, covering a tiny bit of underwear, was something Tonks had once explained to him was a garter belt. It was holding up sheer stockings that ended mid-thigh, exposing the rest of her creamy white skin to his feasting eyes.**

**"Have…have you been wearing that the whole night?" he asked hoarsely. It was a good thing he hadn't known about it, he might not have made it through dinner.**

**"Yes," Ginny stammered out. She could feel the blush creeping up her body at the look of naked desire and longing on his face. Her mind screamd at her to _move_; to pick up the dress at her feet and cover herself but her feet felt frozen and her heart pounded. No one had ever looked at her like THAT before.**

**"Then I am really sorry about this because you are the most _gorgeous_ thing I have _ever_ seen, but I'm really going to need you to take all that off." **

**Without waiting for a reply, Harry kicked the door shut behind him, took two quick steps towards her. He yanked her into his arms, cutting off her protest with his mouth. He snaked his arms around her bare waist and pressed her into his body, making his intentions clear. He had gotten hard the instant he stepped in the door and he had no desire to control himself. **

**Harry knew his control had snapped the moment he saw her in her skimpy underwear.**

**Ginny instinctively molded herself to his body. Her hands slid up his arms, across his shoulders to wrap around his neck. She curled her fingers into his hair, holding him tight to her as he plundered her mouth. Okay, okay, her mind chanted. If this was when this would happen then that was just fine with her. She would floo her parents later and tell them she wasn't coming home tonight and they could just sod their disapproving looks. She knew she wouldn't be able to leave Harry after this.**

**Harry felt his magic trying to escape and he broke the kiss, moving his mouth down to her neck and nibbling her flesh. She shuddered when he kissed the spot behind her ear and he grinned to himself. His hands slid down the small of her back towards her bum. He groaned when he encountered bare flesh, his hands squeezing her bottom. Merlin, she was wearing a thong.**

**Ginny felt herself being lifted up and she immediately wrapped her legs around Harry's waist as he carried her over to his bed. He took perverse pleasure in knowing that he was the only thing she was touching at the time. He didn't even have to share her with the floor. **

**She pressed kisses frantically over his face, along his jaw and over to his ear. When she sucked his earlobe into her mouth, he hissed and laid her down on the bed, her bum resting on the very edge as he lifted himself off of her, his weight resting on his arms. **

**"Ginny," he gasped, as her head fell back on the bed, letting go of his ear with a pop. "Are you sure this is okay? Because I might still be able to stop." He sounded more confident than he felt; he was desperately trying to keep his magic from escaping.**

**"Yes Harry," she breathed. "Please. Make love to me. I've wanted you for so long." She curled her pelvis into his, brushing up and down against his erection. "Besides," she added wickedly, "I don't think you'll be able to stop."**

**Harry pushed himself completely off of her with another groan. Stepping back, he let her legs fall down from his waist and he reached out to grasp the garter belt with both hands. **

**"How do you get this thing off?" he panted. "I need it off…now."**

**For an answer, Ginny reached down and unfastened the snaps connecting her stockings to the belt. "Just pull," she said breathlessly. **

**Harry yanked the belt down her hips and over her legs, stopping to remove her shoes before tossing the belt to the floor. He ran his hands up her left leg and slipped his fingers underneath the edge of the stocking on her thigh. He peeled the fabric down her leg and repeated the motion with the other leg before discarding both stockings to the floor. **

**Beginning with her left ankle, Harry kissed his way slowly up her leg, stopping to delve his tongue behind her knee, smirking when she gasped and arched her back. He didn't stop when moving his kisses to her hip and up her side until he reached her shoulder. With a deep breath, he buried his face in her neck, alternatingly sucking and licking her flesh. **

**With a groan, Ginny shoved him up and arched her back again, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. She slid the straps down her arms and then looked at him expectantly. **

**  
Shifting his weight to one hand, Harry reached out and slid the fabric from her chest, inhaling sharply when he saw what lay underneath. "You are so beautiful," he whispered reverently and lowered his head to her. She cried out, when his mouth touched her, threading her fingers through his hair, holding him to her. **

**He spent the next several minutes worshipping her breasts with his mouth and his hands. His fingers caressed one nipple as his mouth closed over the other. He sucked the tip of her breast in his mouth, tugging gently at her nipple with his teeth until Ginny cried out. Letting her breast go with a pop, he leisurely kissed his way over to the other mound, stopping to inhale the smell of her between her breasts. He ran his tongue on the underside of the creamy flesh, working his way to the tip with small laps of his tongue until he was circling the nipple but not touching it. He chuckled when she growled at him and finally took her breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tip as she purred in satisfaction. **

**Ginny felt like her body was a taut string, waiting to be snapped. "Harry," she gasped, "Please…"**

**Harry lifted himself off of her again and Ginny sat up, taking the opportunity to unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers. He stood still, watching her. **

**"Are you positive this is okay Nix?" he asked quietly. "I don't want to rush you."**

**She slid her hands up the chest she had just exposed and slipped the shirt off his shoulders, tugging it past his wrists and dropping it to the ground. She stood up and pressed herself against his bare torso, her hands reaching between them to undo his belt buckle. **

**"I love you," she said in a low voice. "And I am never going to want to share this with anyone but you." **

**Her hands reached for his zipper but Harry stopped her movements with his hand. "Let me," he said hoarsely. He was so hard it was nearly painful and he was afraid that one touch from Ginny would set him off. He definitely did NOT want to come in his pants this time. **

**He made quick work of his pants and boxers, his eyes fastened on Ginny's while she scooted backwards up to the headboard, laying herself in the center of the bed. When he stood before her naked, she gulped.**

**"Is that…is that going to fit?" she asked.**

**Harry threw back his head and laughed at the look on her face. "You're really good for my ego."**

**He climbed up on the bed. "I think we'll do just fine Nix," he said, his eyes darkening as he looked at her lounging on his bed waiting for him. **

**Harry crawled towards her, coming to a stop at her bent knees. She looked up at him nervously as he grasped her knees and gently opened her legs. He groaned when he saw her lacy underwear, still covering her. He could tell her body was already preparing to receive him by the dark wet spot on the crotch of her panties.**

**"Ginny," he said anxiously, looking back up at her. "The thing is…well, it's supposed to hurt…the first time…I've heard. I don't want to hurt you."**

**"I know Harry," she said, now smiling at him. "It'll just be for a moment. Just…go slow."**

**"I promise," he vowed. He hooked his thumbs on the straps of her thong and slowly peeled it off, keeping his eyes on hers as she lifted her hips so he could remove the underwear. When he had tossed the underwear to the floor, he sat back on his heels and let his gaze travel up and down her naked form. **

**"You are so beautiful," he whispered. He had never seen a naked woman before but he was pretty sure that Ginny put them all to shame. "Look at you, it's beyond anything I could have imagined. Well…beyond anything I HAVE been imagining."**

**Ginny flushed but stopped herself from instinctively covering her body with her hands. She was _his_ and she wanted him to know it. He could look at her anytime he wanted. She took a deep breath, looking at his erection again. Yeah, that was going to hurt. **

**She tentatively reached out a hand towards him. "Can I touch you?"**

**Harry inhaled sharply, grabbing her wrist before her hand closed around him. "I don't think that's a good idea Ginny," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm already too close and the only place I want to come right now is buried deep inside of you."**

**His words sent a wave of heat through her but she drew back her hand. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "Maybe next time?"**

**"Definitely," he swore. He put his hands on her knees and ran them up her thighs, palming her hips and up her torso as Ginny instinctively spread her knees further apart to allow him to move closer to her. Soon he was nestled between her thighs, the heat rolling off of her in waves.**

**With a feral grin, he leaned over, putting his weight on his arms as he ran his tongue over her breasts again. He moved his mouth down her stomach, stopping to swirl his tongue into her belly button. The sounds of pleasure she was making for him urged him further on and he skimmed his mouth over to her left hipbone, kissing his way across the top of the nest of curls between her thighs. **

**The scent coming off of her was driving him crazy. Harry's animagus form was a lion and in the back of his distracted mind, he realized that his lion was recognizing his mate by her smell. **

**Ginny clutched Harry's upper arms, her fingers biting into his flesh. He was driving her crazy. The magic inside of her was swelling and the heat was pooling in her lower body as he ran his mouth over her hips. Gods, she wanted to touch him too. To run her hands over his muscles and-**

**Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt and her body arched automatically as Harry lifted his head from where he had been nibbling on her flesh and cupped her with his hand. No one had _ever_ touched her there. And now that Harry had, no else _ever_ would. She gasped when he tentatively ran his index finger down her swollen lips to find the center of her. Cautiously, he inserted the finger inside of her, dropping his head down to nuzzle the top of her thigh as he shifted his weight to his left forearm. He let her adjust to the feel of his finger and then began slowly moving the finger in and out eventually adding another finger and stretching her.**

**"Harry!" Ginny cried out. "Please!"**

**"Please what baby?" Harry panted. He looked up at her, his eyes glowing a dark green. His eyes slid shut as he felt her muscles contract around his fingers. "Merlin Ginny, you're so tight…and wet."**

**"For you," she gasped out, her head twisting on the pillow. "I'm wet for you."**

**Harry's plans to bring her to unbridled passion before he joined her vanished with her words. He withdrew his fingers causing her to whimper. He pushed himself up and over her, lowering himself onto her body. They both groaned at the skin-to-skin contact and Ginny's arms slid around him, holding him tight to her and stroking up and down his back.**

**Harry lowered his head to her shoulder, breathing deeply to keep his magic inside of him. He wanted to share magic with her so much, but he couldn't be sure he wouldn't hurt her if he let himself go like that.**

**Reaching between them, he positioned himself at her entrance and looked up at her. Her face was flushed and her pupils were almost completely gold. She met his gaze and reached up to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip between her own before tracing his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth to accommodate her and she kissed him hard and thoroughly. He would swear later that he could feel her love for him in that kiss, that moment of contact before they finally joined their bodies. **

**"Ginny," he panted, when she had stopped the kiss. "Are you sure?"**

**"Harry," she growled at him, "if you stop now, I'm going to kill you." She arched her hips up towards him invitingly and he could do nothing but answer her invitation. **

**Ginny felt the head of him slowly penetrate her, sliding into her, stretching her muscles for his entry. When he reached her barrier, he took a deep breath and looking into her eyes, thrust through, entering the rest of her until he was all the way in. He stopped moving to let her adjust to feel of him. She looked up at him with wide eyes but didn't show any other signs of pain except for the lip she was biting on and the tenseness he felt in her body. **

**"Relax," he whispered to her, nuzzling her nose with his. "I think it will be better if you relax. I won't move until you tell me to."**

**In truth, Harry had no idea how he was controlling his actions. Every cell in his brain was shouting at him to get a bloody move on and his instinct wanted him to slam his hips into hers, bringing them both to completion as quickly as possible. Three words kept flashing in his mind in rapid succession: "hot, wet, tight." **

**"So tight," he groaned out loud, shutting his eyes.**

**Ginny forced herself to relax, realizing that Harry was demonstrating superpowers of self-control as he waited for her to adjust to him. As she relaxed her muscles the pain was ebbing away until she was filled the feeling of Harry inside of her. It felt…wonderful, she realized now with a shock. _This_ was what Hermione and Tonks had been talking about. She felt complete, like she would never be whole again unless her body was molded around him. They fit together lit a puzzle piece.**

**"Harry," she breathed, opening her eyes to look at him. The strain of his stillness was showing on his face. "It's okay, you can move."**

**Trusting her to tell him the truth, Harry slowly withdrew himself until he was barely inside and then thrust slowly back into her. He repeated this motion until Ginny began moving with him, thrusting back against him, forcing him to speed up.**

**"Faster," she moaned, her eyes sliding shut. "More." Goddess, he was driving her crazy. **

**"I won't break," she told him through gritted teeth.**

**Harry quickened the pace, thrusting in and out of her until he was no longer sure where he ended and where Ginny began. His body began to glow with a faint green light and Harry abruptly stilled his movements. **

**"Sorry," he ground out, "just give me a minute." He shut his eyes tightly, trying to stop the magic from escaping. **

**Ginny noticed his body glowing and wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind his back. "Don't stop Harry," she panted. "Let go, share magic with me."**

**"I don't want to hurt you," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself."**

**"I feel it too," she gasped, arching into him. "This is _us _Harry. This is how we are supposed to be. Please, share with me." **

**She sent her magic reaching for him and he couldn't stop himself from answering. Their auras burst into color around them and Harry was lost. There was only Ginny and the way she felt moving beneath him. The fire inside of her ran through his body, surrounding them and he met her mouth with his lips. The link between them intensified the pleasure in a continuous loop. He could feel the heat gathering itself inside of her… could feel how his movements brought her closer to the edge each time. He knew she could feel how bloody fantastic it felt being surrounded by her, how well she enveloped him—as if she was made just for him.**

**"I was," she gasped again, her hips meeting his now-frantic thrusts. "I was made for you, only for you."**

**"_Mine_," he panted, looking into her eyes. "Only mine."**

**"Yours," she agreed. "_Always_."**

**Her orgasm came with her declaration and her chest arched into him, letting her head fall back on the pillow as she cried out his name, the pleasure washing over the connection in waves. Harry let himself go, not being able to stop himself when he felt her muscles rippling around him. With a final thrust and a hoarse cry in her ear, he spilled into her and their auras turned from a swirling mass of red and green to a combined golden color that washed over their quaking bodies.**

**Ginny lay panting, welcoming Harry's weight on top of her after he had collapsed onto her. They were silent for several moments until Harry kissed her one final time and made a move as if to roll off. **

**"No," she pleaded, hugging him tighter to her. "Stay."**

**"Aren't I crushing you?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss on her sweaty brow.**

**"Yes, but it feels nice," she said, running her hands over his back. She was quiet for another moment, letting the joy of their union wash through her. They were still connected—she could feel his energy moving through her.**

**"Harry," she said tentatively. "Is that offer still open?" **

"What offer?" He asked blankly, lifting his head from her shoulder where he had been pressing kisses to look at her.

**"The one where I move in here with you." Ginny held her breath waiting for his answer. How could she not move in and spend every waking moment with him, after what they had just shared?**

**"Do you mean it?" Harry said, his eyes lighting up with hope. "You really want to? What happened to it being too soon?"  
**

**Ginny shrugged, smiling at him. "You were right. It's silly to wait. I love you and we're going to be together forever. I don't want to wait for our lives to start anymore."**

**"Then move in," Harry pleaded shakily, pressing urgent kisses along her jaw. "Live with me, be with me, share with me."**

**"Okay," She whispered, her eyes welling up with tears at his tenderness. "I will.**

**Harry kissed her hard then, his lips forcing hers open to allow his tongue to sweep inside her mouth. His hands moved up to tangle in her hair as he poured love into the connection that linked them. "I love you so much…forever," he said fiercely, lifting his head to look at her.**

**"Mo chuisle," she whispered, smiling at him through her tears. She reached up a hand to caress his cheek. "Mo chuisle," she repeated.**

**"What does that mean," he asked, nuzzling her neck. He could feel himself hardening inside of her. _Again?_, his brain asked. _Yes_, he insisted. _Again_. In fact, as many times as possible.**

**"It can mean many things," she answered. "But the most common is 'my love.'"**

**"I love it when you speak Gaelic," Harry groaned, his hips starting to move again. "I don't understand a bloody word you're saying but the words sort of move over my skin. It's sexy."**

**Ginny laughed breathlessly, wrapping her arms around him again and mimicing the movement of his hips. "I'll move in with you on one condition," she said.**

**"Name it," Harry panted.**

**"Promise me we will never stop doing this." **

"Done," he agreed. "Ginny, how do you say 'forever' in Gaelic?"

**"Go síoraí," she answered, her fingernails curling into his shoulders.**

**"Go síoraí," he chanted over and over again into her ear. **

**She shut her eyes to enjoy the pleasure building between them again and he stopped his chanting for a moment to whisper to her. "No, look at me, only at me." She opened her eyes. He was looking down at her with fierce concentration on his face, the goldeness of their aura shining around him. **

**"Eyes on me," he commanded. "Only on me." **

**She obeyed, even when he quickened the pace and she thought she would explode. With one final thrust, the love exploded between them, their auras bursting into an even brighter gold as they hung suspended in the moment. They came back down slowly, Harry letting them both catch their breath before finally withdrawing from her. They both immediately felt the loss and their aura separated again into green and red.**

**"Gods I love you," he finally whispered into her ear before moving off of her to lay at her side. She murmured back to him, so sleepy she wasn't sure she made sense but he only curled his body protectively around her, tucking her into his chest and pulling the covers up over them. **

**"Go síoraí," he whispered in her ear one last time before they both drifted off into sleep.**


	12. Chapter 12 Packing

Ginny was not a morning person. Usually she delayed getting out of bed until the last possible second and was really cranky for the first two hours of her day.

Not this morning.

This morning, Ginny awoke slowly; with a sweet awareness of where she was and with a delicious soreness in all the right places.

She was lying on her side, her head pillowed on Harry's arm, his entire body pressed up against her. His other arm was draped across her like a blanket, one hand cupped possessively around her breast. He was spooned up against her so tightly they were in a near-fetal position. He had sort of tucked her into his chest, underneath his chin, wrapped his arms around her and then curled them up together. It felt, Ginny sighed…it felt almost protective, like he was sheltering her.

It felt damn good.

In fact, if Ginny wiggled her bum just a little bit, she could feel how good Harry's body thought it was, even though he was still asleep. She could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against her back and the puffs of air on her neck as he exhaled each breath.

Moving very slowly so as to not wake him up, Ginny lifted her head to look at the clock beside the bed. Shite, it was only 4 a.m. She hadn't been up this early since…well, ever.

Deciding that fate was giving her an opportunity to apparate back to the Burrow without anyone knowing she hadn't spent the night in her bedroom, she slowly unwrapped Harry's arms and scooted towards the edge of the bed away from his embrace. She looked back at him as she cautiously sat up and grimaced when she saw a frown appear on his face as she left him. Getting to her feet, she tiptoed into the loo, wincing when the sound of the flushing toilet seemed echo throughout the room.

She snuck back into the bedroom. Harry was still asleep although he had flopped over onto his back, arms outstretched to his sides in the giant bed. There was an obvious…and impressive…tenting in the blankets and Ginny blushed, remembering how it had felt to have _that_ pressed up against her bum when she had woken up.

She stood beside the bed for a moment looking down at her…what? Boyfriend? Lover? Companion? None of those descriptions seemed adequate for what they had shared last night. When Harry had finally entered her and they had shared magic, Ginny had felt something shift inside of her—an empty space had finally filled up. Like that was where they _belonged_…connected.

Four years ago, right before she had left for Paris, Ginny had told Harry that when she first met him, she had immediately felt a hole inside of her open up, as if it expected him to complete the new part of her. She hadn't exaggerated. The ache for him had only increased over their years at school. When Ginny's friends had pleaded with her to forget the boy-who-lived, she was never able to explain to them _why_ she kept going. She didn't think they would believe her and half the time, she hadn't believed herself.

Now that she was older she knew: It was the emptiness inside of her that Tom Riddle had taken advantage of when he possessed her. It was the urge to fill the hole that had driven her to go with Harry to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius and it had only taken the mere thought of that space being empty forever that caused her to jump in front of that curse for him during the Battle of Hogsmeade.

But now, standing beside the bed they had just made love in for the first time, Ginny realized with a mingled sense of shock and relief that the hole was gone; as if it had just been waiting for Harry to fill it up with himself, with his magic. She felt complete and knew with a dead certainty there would never be anyone else for her. So sign her up and change her name to Weasley-Potter…okay maybe she wasn't quite ready for THAT yet.

Turning from the bed, Ginny silently gathered her clothing…Merlin, where had Harry tossed it all? Her dress was where she had left it but her underwear, stockings and shoes had been flung to all corners of the room. She slipped on the dress not bothering with the underwear and gathered the items of clothing into a bundle. She would apparate directly to her bedroom so there was no need for shoes.

Turning back to Harry, Ginny realized she would need to wake him up to say goodbye. She hated to wake him up as it was still so early but she couldn't just leave—not after what they had shared. In fact, she really didn't want to leave at all.

But she needed to go home and explain her decision to move in with Harry to her parents. She was not looking forward to the conversation. They couldn't stop her, she was an adult, but their approval meant a lot to her and she wasn't sure how they would take the move.

She grinned now as various, interesting ways to wake Harry up flashed through her mind. In the end, she went for something simple. Ginny climbed up on the bed, crawled over to Harry and stretched her body out on top of his. Her hands came up to his hair and she ran her fingers through it, smiling as he shifted underneath her and leaned his head into her caress.

"Harry," she called softly. "Wake up a ghrá."

Harry moaned softly, his head twisting towards the sound and his eyes opened slowly, blinking up at her. "Ginny," he croaked. "What's going on?"

"It's still really early," she said. "I thought I'd go back to the Burrow, you know, before anyone realized I didn't sleep there." She smiled down at him, refusing to blush as she reminded him why she hadn't slept in her home. She continued to run her fingers through his hair and dropped her head to place a soft kiss on his bare shoulder.

Harry's arms came up to wrap around her waist, effectively pinning her to his body. "You're leaving?"

His thoughts were sort of muddled but one thing was clear—he did NOT want her to go. He loosened his grip to skim his hands up and down her sides.

"Hey, you're dressed," he frowned sleepily. "Take that off."

Ginny chuckled at him. "Pay attention Potter," she scolded, squirming as his hands traveled down her back and began rubbing her bum through the soft material.

"I'm trying to tell you that it's four in the morning and if I leave now, no one will know I slept here."

"Why is it so bad if people knew you slept here?" he asked distractedly as his hands found the hem of her dress and slipped underneath, running up the back of her thighs to stroke the soft curves of her arse.

"You're not wearing any underwear," he murmured delightedly. His eyes slid closed as if he was savoring the feeling of Ginny's skin.

"It's not bad necessarily," Ginny explained breathlessly. Merlin, what this man could do to her with just his hands. "But if they wake up and I'm not there my mother will call out the Weasley Brother Brigade and trust me, you do not want me stumbling home looking well and thoroughly shagged into a roomful of my over-protective brothers."

Harry's hands stilled in mid-squeeze.

"I suppose that's true," he conceded, opening his eyes. "But you'll come back won't you?" he asked hopefully.

"Not this morning," Ginny smiled at him. "I've got to tell my parents that I'm moving in with my boyfriend and then, after that very uncomfortable conversation, I thought I'd pack up my things."

Harry grinned at her. "Need some help?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Hmmm…" she said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure your idea of _help_ would be very…productive."

"I know something you could help me with," he smirked at her and thrust his hips upwards, letting her feel his morning erection.

Ginny blushed. "Yes, well, that would be lovely and I really would like to er…help…you with that but I need to go so maybe later."

Harry laughed quietly at her. She was adorable. Despite what they had shared last night, he could still make her blush.

"Nix," he said softly, taking one hand out from underneath her dress and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Don't be shy. Last night was…well, it was the most fantastic night of my life."

Ginny melted. "Oh Harry," she breathed, leaning down to kiss him softly on the lips. "It was wonderful for me too. I didn't know it would ever feel that…special."

"In fact," she mused, lifting her head, "it was bloody brilliant. Are you sure you've never done that before?"

Now Harry was blushing. "No I've not but…well…"

"Spill it Potter," Ginny commanded sharply, her eyes twinkling in spite of the hard look she was giving him.

"I read a lot of books about it, okay," Harry finally huffed out. "I've been reading them since the duel at your parent's house. I just wanted to…you know…make it good for you."

"Well it was," Ginny said simply. "It was beyond anything I ever expected. Thank you." There were several witty remarks on the tip of her tongue but Harry had done something sweet for her; she could tease him about it later…much later. Like in five years.

She smiled down at him. Goddess this man made her all mushy inside.

"Well it wasn't easy reading all those books, imagining myself doing those things to YOU," Harry grumped, still irritated at having to reveal his secret.

"Things get a little _hard_ to deal with there?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You've no idea," he muttered.

Ginny laughed and wiggled her her front against his still hard penis. He groaned and she giggled again. Giving him one last kiss, she rolled off of him and stood up, ignoring the pleading moan he gave as she moved away.

"No," she said, trying not to laugh at him. "I've really got to go. If I leave now I can get couple more hours sleep before Mum wakes me up."

"You can sleep here," Harry suggested hopefully. "I'll set the alarm."

Ginny raised both eyebrows at him. "I don't think we'd be 'sleeping.' Especially not since you are now 'awake,'" she said, nodding pointedly towards his obvious arousal.

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows and grinned at her. "I won't blush," he said, "you can't make me."

"I wasn't trying to," she said grinning back. "It's very impressive after all."

"Come back here and I'll show you impressive-"

"Harry!" Ginny interrupted. "I've really got to go. I've got a million things to do today. Stop trying to tempt me."

Harry sighed and looked at her. "So you're going to tell them?"

Ginny didn't have to ask what he meant. "Yeah," she said, leaning over to gather her underthings and shoes from a nearby chair. "Best to get it over with."

"And," Harry swallowed, "your brothers?"

Ginny looked at him quizzically. "Harry," she said slowly, trying not to laugh at him, "you're not scared of my brothers are you?"

"Well, not scared exactly…but well…they probably aren't going too pleased about me shacking up with their sister."

Ginny's eyes widened. "You ARE scared," she said disbelievingly. "I can't believe it. Powerful Harry Potter scared of the Weasley brothers? What is this world coming to?"

"There are six of them Ginny," he said heatedly. "SIX. One for each limb and then some. They're going to tear me apart. And then I'll never get to eat your mother's treacle tart again. Plus…you know…I'll be dead."

"Don't worry a ghrá," Ginny said gaily, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll protect you."

"Thanks," Harry grumped. "That makes me feel so much better."

"It should," she comforted, stepping back from him. "I've had them wrapped around my finger since I was three."

Harry's face turned serious. "Ginny, I mean it. I don't want them to be mad at me. They're the only family I've got. If they hate me for this-"

"They're not going to hate you Harry," Ginny interrupted again. "Honestly, have you forgotten that Fred and Angelina lived together before they got married? And Natalia was pregnant when she and Charlie got married. It's not a big deal. My brothers won't care."

"But your parents?" Harry asked shrewdly. "They're going to care?"

Ginny stopped and sighed at him. "Well, they're a bit old-fashioned yes, but ultimately they want me to be happy and you make me happy. I think they'll be okay with it, eventually."

Harry sat up fully, and ran his fingers through his hair in an unconscious nervous gesture. The sheets dropped down to his waist, exposing his chest and Ginny felt a surge in her magic at the sight, almost as if her magic was remembering what it felt like to run her fingers over those muscles. Harry grinned suddenly, and Ginny groaned inwardly, knowing he had felt her desire for him.

"Ginny," he said huskily, throwing back the sheets and sliding his feet to the floor. "Come here." He stood up and Ginny got the impression of a predator stalking its prey as he came towards her, his eyes darkening.

"No!" Ginny said breathlessly, throwing up a hand to stop his advance, "I've really got to go!"

"Then you'd better leave right this very second," Harry threatened, "because if I touch you-"

He stopped in shock as Ginny apparated away without another word. He stood frozen for a minute, disappointed, but as quick as she had left, she popped back in, her arms still full of her clothes.

"Oh, I forgot, come to the Burrow for lunch," she said quickly. "I'll have told them by then."

Harry lunged for her, a feral grin on his face but she shrieked and apparated away again.

Harry turned back towards the bed, chuckling. He climbed in and pulled the covers up over him, willing himself to go back to sleep. After a few minutes of trying, he sighed exasperatedly. Ginny was right—he was awake now and not the least bit sleepy.

There was also the fact that every time he closed his eyes, he remembered what Ginny had looked like, gasping his name while climaxing the night before. He had never seen a woman do that and had certainly never been the cause of it so it wasn't something he was likely to forget soon. He could almost hear his lion animagus form roaring in triumph that he had been the only one she had ever looked at like that.

Now more than ever, he was glad he had never slept with any of those silly witches he had dated before Ginny. There had been plenty of opportunities and several girls had been convinced their relationship had been heading in that direction. They had tried to tempt him with skimpy outfits, blatant seductions; a few had even tried misguided love potions.

The truth was, Harry hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone except Ginny. He had never even been sincerely tempted. Every time a girl came on to him, instead of being turned on, he had wondered distractedly if there was something wrong with him. But then he would recall the way Ginny looked in her dueling outfit, or the way her body had seemed to fit so perfectly with his when they would hug at Hogwarts and his body's reaction would assure him that all was well in Harry Junior land.

They hadn't all been silly, of course, Harry decided. A few girls had been really interesting but in the end, they always wanted more. He could never bring himself to give it to them. When they had pleaded with him, he had felt guilty and upset with himself for hurting a perfectly nice witch, but not enough to stop himself from walking away. He had always given reasonable excuses but the only real excuse was that every time he looked at another woman, kissed another woman, held hands with another woman…he had always seen Ginny. No one else had ever felt right, or…smelled right.

Last night, when he had been buried to the hilt inside of Ginny, sharing magic with her, something had clicked inside of him. He had known with a certainty that he had never felt before: she was the only one he would _ever_ want. She completed him, made him whole.

He wasn't so far gone, he didn't remember that odd golden aura that had surrounded them during their lovemaking. And thinking about THAT made him so hard, it was impossible to go back to sleep. He'd had her twice last night, less than six hours ago, how could he want her again so badly, so quickly? Besides, (he thought not a bit smugly) she was probably sore and would think him a randy bugger if he apparated over to the Burrow right now for another shag, just because his erection was keeping him awake.

He sighed again and kicked back the covers. Merlin, it was hot in here. He looked over at the space where Ginny had slept. He missed her already and now that he had spent the night wrapped around her warmth, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to sleep without it again. He rolled over and looked at the clock. Shite, it was nearly 5 a.m.

Giving up sleep for the day, Harry got up and threw on some workout clothes before heading down to the gym he had installed in the basement of the house. If he couldn't have Ginny there was only one other way he knew of to work off sexual frustration.

Arthur Weasley sat down at his kitchen table with a happy sigh. It was Saturday morning. Molly was making his favorite breakfast, he had his newspaper and a hot cup of tea—life was good.

Molly served him and sat down with her own plate of food. They relaxed into a companionable silence, both reading sections of the day's _Daily Prophet_. Arthur had just started reading a news story about a wizard in Kent, who had accidentally transfigured his wife and three children into a small herd of elephants, when he heard the distinctive sound of Ginny descending the steps into the kitchen.

"Morning!" a cheery voice called and Arthur acknowledged his daughter with a soft grunt. He didn't seen Ginny roll her eyes (her own Saturday morning ritual) and pour herself a cup of tea before sitting down. He was vaguely aware of his wife and daughter chatting meerily around him and finished his paper in peace, grateful once again the fates, which had blessed him with seven children, had also blessed him with a quiet house after they all grew up and moved out.

Finally setting the paper aside to eat his breakfast, his eyes met Ginny's across the table. There was something…different about her this morning. She smiled at him brilliantly but Arthur thought he detected a spot of color on her cheeks, almost as if she was…blushing?

He set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, observing his daughter closely. She was fidgeting, one knee bouncing up and down, her fingers twirling a piece of her long wavy hair nervously. She met his eyes again and stared at him across the table, as if she was unconcsiously willing him to understand something.

Arthur's own eyes narrowed. Ginny had never been very good at hiding anything. Her brothers all said her facial expressions gave her away but Arthur had privately always thought anyone who wanted to know anything about Ginny should look into her eyes. They held a thousand different expressions. It was one of the reasons father and daughter were so close—Arthur had spent a lifetime learning about Ginny by looking into her eyes.

The look in them now told Arthur that Ginny was…happy, gloriously happy in fact. He hadn't seen a look like that since Ginny was accepted into Hogwarts 10 years ago. He took a sip of his tea and continued his silent communication with his daughter, his eyes searching hers. There was something in there he hadn't quite seen before, something beyond happiness but also…yes, worry. He noticed her eyes glancing towards her mother who was oblivious to the silent conversation and suddenly he understood—Ginny was moving out.

Arthur wasn't sure how he knew this with certainty but he did. Well, he had expected it and had prepared himself accordingly. He was really going to miss her but at least this time she would be staying in the country…

He smiled back at her reassuredly, letting her know he understood and that everything would be alright. She returned the smile but didn't look convinced.

Setting down his tea, and picking up his fork again, he speared a bit of sausage and chewed it silently, waiting for Ginny to speak.

Ginny had no idea how her parents were going to react to the news that she was moving in with Harry after only a month of dating him. They had both grown up during a time when witches and wizards didn't live together until they were married. Her mother especially was sure to fret about her being called a "scarlet woman" which was, funnily enough, what she had tried to call Fred years ago when he announced that he and Angelina would be living together before they got married. The fact that Fred was a man hadn't really seemed to bother her at the time.

Since then, her mother had been fairly silent about certain decisions her children made. Ginny and Ron had suspected their father had given their mother a good lecture about letting her children grow up but it didn't stop her from making her disapproval clear. When she was displeased with them she would press her lips together so tightly they disappeared. The twins teased her about it and would loudly ask their siblings, 'Did her lips come out yet?' Percy had called it passive-agressiveness.

Ginny called it impressive. Her mother had spent a lifetime yelling at her seven children to behave and the fact that she had finally learned to hold her temper was a beacon of hope for Ginny, who often struggled to keep her own temper.

It wasn't like they would stop her. In fact, they would probably smile and help her pack. She could tell by the look on her father's face that he already knew some of what she wanted to say. She really wanted them to approve of her choice to be with Harry. Ginny knew in her heart that Harry was going to be a permanent part of the family someday and couldn't find a reason to delay being with him. But it had been four years since she had spent any real time with her parents. This was her first adult decision in front of them and well…it made her feel like a kid again.

Shaking her head at the irony of her feelings, Ginny took a deep breath and plunged in.

"I've got something to tell you both," she said slowly placing her tea cup back into its saucer.

Her father looked up expectantly and gave her an encouraging smile. The one that said 'don't worry, I can handle your mother.'

Unnoticed by her husband and daughter, Molly smiled to herself. The two of them had developed the habit of communicating without words over the years and they thought no one else had noticed. But this was her kitchen table—she noticed everything that happened around it. And Ginny was her daughter; she could certainly tell when her daughter had something on her mind. Over the years, Molly had noticed lots of silent conversations but had never let on—let Arthur think it was something special he shared with Ginny.

"What is it dear?" she asked pleasantly, pouring Arthur a fresh cup of tea.

"Well, it's a couple of things actually," Ginny said cautiously. "I've found a job."

Ginny cringed when she heard her parent's excited congratulations. She was about to bring down the mood.

"Ginny that's wonderful," her mother gushed. "What sort of job? Is it with the ministry?"

"Well, yes," Ginny admitted. "In fact, I'm going to be working with Harry."

Arthur stiffened. He suspected what sort of work Harry did for the ministry. And now Ginny?

"What sort of work?" he asked trying to cover his concern. It wouldn't do for Ginny to think he thought she wasn't up for the job. The truth was he did think she was up for it. She'd be brilliant; the two of them would make a formidable pair. Albus Dumbledore had explained certain things about Harry and Ginny to Arthur several years ago; but still…she was his daughter…

Ginny looked at him and met his gaze steadily. "He's been appointed to be the Ambassador to the Magical Governments of Europe. I'm going to be his assistant."

She was lying, Arthur could tell by the look in her eyes. He had a sneaking suspicion that she had let him see she was lying. It was the only way Ginny could find to tell him the truth—by letting him read it in her eyes.

Molly gasped. "Oh Ginny, that's…that's fabulous! We're so proud of you, aren't we dear?" She turned to Arthur excitedly. "We'll have to have a party won't we?"

"Very proud," Arthur agreed. He was telling the truth. He was amazed and proud of his daughter—that she would be recruited for, if what he suspected was true, a position of great importance. But he couldn't stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. If he was right about what Harry actually did for a living, Ginny would be facing all kinds of danger. She would live a good bit of her life in secret and spend a great deal of time…traveling.

He smiled bravely at her, willing her to see that he WAS proud of her, just concerned for his only daughter. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"There's more," Ginny said.

Now Molly stiffened. She had been secretly hoping Ginny and Harry would announce their engagement soon, (was there any reason to wait?). Of course she hadn't shared such a dream with anyone, they all would have told her to slow down but really, any fool could see the two were made for each other. And now they would be spending so much time together-

"Harry asked me to move in with him and I've accepted. I'm moving out," Ginny said simply. She took a deep breath and waited.

But there was only silence. Her mother was plainly shocked, she could see that. Her father looked as if he was thinking really hard about what she had just said.

Ginny opened her mouth to explain further and then promptly shut it. This was her decision and there was no need to justify it. Not unless things got really ugly.

Her father coughed. "I see," he said slowly. "This is, er…a big step. Is this what you want?"

"Yes," she said softly, her eyes meeting his. "It's what I've always wanted. To be with Harry."

There was more silence and Ginny turned nervously to her mother who was staring at her with a blank look on her face. "Mum?" she said timidly.

Her mother jumped a little and seemed to come back from wherever her mind had wandered. "I'm sorry Ginny," she said, looking at her daughter. "I was just thinking of that time when you were four years old and your favorite storybook was 'The Boy Who Lived,' do you remember? You screamed every night for a year if someone didn't read it to you before you went to bed. 'I want Harry, I want Harry!' you'd shout. Until finally I would take pity on you and read it."

Her mother stopped and sniffed a little. "I'm…I'm sorry dear, I really am happy for you both, I just…well…you're my last child to leave home for good and well it's a little difficult. But of course, you're going to be with Harry."

Ginny's mouth fell open in shock. "You're not mad that I'm going to live with Harry? You do realize we're not getting married right? We're going to be living together…without being married," she explained slowly.

Molly leaned forward and grasped Ginny's hands on the table. "You know, the only thing I have ever wanted for my children is for them to be happy. You and Harry have waited so long for each other. You might think I don't notice things; that I'm a bit old-fashioned, but Ginny, I always noticed the way Harry looked at you. That boy loves you and has for ages."

She let go of Ginny's hands and sat back in her chair. "Naturally I would prefer it if you got married," she smiled ruefully. "But you two are committed to each other. I've known it would be this way if you ever got together. I can't deny you belong together any more than I can deny the sun needs to shine."

"When Fred and Angelina moved into together you threw a fit," Ginny said confusedly. "Why aren't you throwing a fit? Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"

"Well…Fred caught me off guard," said Molly, blushing slightly. She stood up from the table and gathered the breakfast dishes before walking over to the sink. "And Fred struck me as being less committed than you are," she called over her shoulder. "I didn't want them to make a mistake."

"So you don't think me and Harry are making a mistake?" inquired Ginny. "You don't think we're rushing things?"

"Not at all dear," said Molly, taking out her wand and waving it over the dirty dishes. She turned back towards Ginny. "You and Harry, you're different. I don't know how to explain what I mean-"

"I think what your mother means," Arthur interrupted, "is that the commitment you and Harry have made to one another was obvious from the beginning." He reached out and grasped Molly's hand. Smiling up at her, he turned back to look at Ginny.

"I won't lie to you pumpkin. We both prefer you were married, of course. But you and Harry…" he shook his head. "Your mother and I have always known it would be forever with you guys."

Molly stepped closer to her husband and slid her arm around his shoulders.

"Harry is good man," Arthur said quietly. "He is like a son to us, you know that."

Ginny nodded dumbly. She couldn't believe they were taking this so well.

"We love Harry," Molly added. "We could not be happier with your choice." She tilted her head to look down at Arthur. "And since Harry is like our son, we should say that we could not be happier with _his _choice either."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "We're glad you finally have each other; that you are going to take such good care of each other."

They both looked at Ginny, who swallowed heavily. "Well, this went a lot easier than I had anticipated," she said weakly.

Molly and Arthur chuckled. "Oh Ginny," sighed Molly, moving away from Arthur to hug her daughter who remained seated at the table. "We _will_ miss you, so much. But you're a grown woman now; we knew you wouldn't stay here forever." She smoothed Ginny's hair back from her forehead. "Even if I secretly hoped you would," she said sheepishly.

Arthur coughed and stood up to help his wife clear the rest of the table. "Of course your brothers are different story."

"They'd better not say a thing," Ginny threatened. "They love Harry too, it would break his heart if they got mad at him over this."

"They don't have room to criticize anyway," scoffed Molly. "After the things they've pulled."

Arthur grinned at Ginny behind his wife's back. Even if her brothers did try something, he was certain their "baby" sister would put them in their place.

Ginny grinned back, knowing her father expected her to take care of what the three of them had long-ago privately named "The Weasley Brother Brigade." The phrase had been coined after her brothers had found out about her first boyfriend her fourth year at Hogwarts. Poor Michael Corner hadn't known what hit him when her brothers discovered they were dating. And her brothers hadn't known what hit _them_ after Ginny and her mother had gotten through with the six of them. Ginny and her parents had later laughed as Molly had described what happened to Arthur. It had been an inside joke between the three of them. And with six other siblings to compete for her parent's attentions, Ginny had cherished it.

"When will you be moving?" Molly asked absentmindedly.

Ginny tore her gaze away from her father. "I'm not sure," she said honestly. "I guess it will take me a few days to pack."

Molly smiled amusedly at her. Ginny had enough power to be packed in five minutes. All she had to do was wave her hand and her things would pack themselves. She suspected her daughter was trying to be kind and drag out her departure.

"It shouldn't take you too long dear," she said mildly. "Most of your things are still in boxes."

"Yeah," Ginny admitted.

"Why don't we have a little family party to…er… celebrate your and Harry's new jobs Tuesday night and you can be packed by then," Arthur suggested.

"That's a fine idea," Molly agreed. "We'll have the party and then you can go to your new home."

A silence fell over the kitchen, as if the implications of the words "new home" had just sunk in. Arthur sat back down slowly and Ginny studied the top of the table, willing her fingers not to trace the scars and dings caused by a lifetime of memories.

She was moving out. Moving. As in never to return to her parent's home. As in, this was it, this was her life—she was all grown up.

She'd been grown up for a long time, she mused. But in the back of her mind there had always been the thought that she could return to live at the Burrow before REALLY beginning her life. And now…she would start it. With Harry.

The thought gave her strength and she squared her shoulders. Her mother finally sniffed, breaking the silence and both Arthur and Ginny sprang up to hug her. They wound up laughing quietly together as they scrambled for a three-way hug.

"This will always be home," Ginny said, finally settling in to hug both of them tightly. After a moment, she pulled back.

"You did a great job, with me I mean. And with Harry. I can never thank you enough for what you did for him," she said in a low voice. "You gave him a family. I don't know what he would have been if you hadn't."

Deep inside of her, Ginny knew the truth of those words. Her parents had welcomed Harry with open arms, treated him like a son and protected him like one when they could. Dumbledore had always said Harry's greatest weapon against Voldemort was love. She knew her parents were a part of that.

"You are more than we ever hoped for," Arthur said, reaching up a hand to cup his daughter's face. "Harry too."

"Enough," Molly said, wiping her eyes. "We're being ridiculous. She's not dying, just moving out. This is a happy occasion!" She turned to Ginny. "We'll see you all the time. A lot more than we did when you lived in Paris anyway."

"That's right," Ginny said, breathing deeply past the lump in her throat. "I'm not moving halfway across the world this time."

She stepped back and waved a hand absentmindedly at the fireplace in the kitchen. The flames had risen with Ginny's emotions but they settled back down when she gestured at them.

"I guess I should go get dressed," Ginny said. "Harry is going to come over for lunch if that's okay."

"Of course," her mother said, waving her hand. "Hermione and Ron are coming over this afternoon as well."

Ginny paused with one foot on the steps and turned back to look at her parents. They had already settled back into their usual Saturday morning routine, despite the high drama of the morning. Her mother was humming as she wiped the kitchen table and her father leaned over to peck his wife on the cheek on his way to the living room where he was most likely going to finish the crossword puzzle in the paper.

She sighed.

Home.

Harry walked in the front door of the Burrow later that afternoon with a certain amount of trepidation. He was sure Ginny had told her parents she was moving in with him by now but he wasn't at all sure how he would be received.

There was also the fact that he had shagged their only daughter less than 24 hours ago. And he knew that as soon as Ginny walked into the room, he was going to want to do it again.

"Hello?" he called.

He heard the faint echo of a reply and walked back to the kitchen to find Molly and Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea.

"Harry dear!" Molly exclaimed. She stood up and gave him her traditional squeeze-the-breath-out-of-him embrace.

Harry couldn't help himself. Molly Weasley had been giving him the same hug for nearly 10 years and he melted every time. She was the only one who had ever hugged him like what he imagined a mother would and since he had seen her give the exact same hugs to all seven of her children, he was pretty sure that Molly Weasley was the closest thing he would ever get to a mother.

Which was exactly why he was so nervous about her reaction.

She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands.

"All right dear?" she asked knowingly.

Harry flushed. "Yes ma'am," he said.

"None of that 'ma'am' stuff, you know better," she chided. He flushed again and Molly chuckled, pulling him into another embrace.

"Everything is fine Harry," she said softly into his ear. "Ginny spoke with us this morning and really, we couldn't be happier."

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully. He decided to ignore the fact that Hermione was in the room—Ginny would have told her by now anyway.

"Well," Molly conceded, stepping back and brushing imaginary lint off the shoulders of his jumper, "of course we wish you would be married first but we understand the need you both have to not waste anymore time."

Harry was surprised. "Th…thanks," he stammered. He had expected, at best, a grudging acceptance, not support.

"We are very happy with Ginny's choice," Molly said firmly, not needing to elaborate on what Ginny's choice actually was.

Her face softened and she placed a hand on Harry's right shoulder. "And we are very happy with your choice dear. We've always said you're like a seventh son—that means we get approval rights of who you are going to spend the rest of your life with."

Harry grinned down at her, his heart swelling with spontaneous love for the entire Weasley family. "You approve of your daughter then?"

"Absolutely," Molly said. "I think she'll be really good for you. I hear she's a great catch. Lovely family, you'll have great in-laws one day."

He gulped. _Mother-in-law._ He was committed to Ginny for life, he had made no secret of that fact but he had assumed they would live together first, then get married. He expected a wave of panic to wash over him at any minute—it was the usual reaction when other people had mentioned marriage to him…like when he had dated someone for more than a month.

In the space of .4 seconds, Harry decided that strangely enough, the idea of marriage to Ginny didn't scare him as much as he thought it would. It was just a piece of paper after all. And Molly wasn't telling him to marry Ginny. She had said 'one day.'

"I wonder if her mother makes as good a treacle tart as you do," Harry mused, calm again.

Molly's eyes twinkled. "Probably not."

Harry decided he couldn't ignore Hermione any longer. She was sitting on the edge of her seat about to burst, and not with babies either. Although, he decided, noting the size of her stomach, it wasn't entirely out of the question.

"Hermione, you look lovelier everyday," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Shut up," she said grumpily. "I do not. I'm look like a beached whale."

"You don't," he replied honestly. "There's a glow about you."

"It's sweat," she said. "This house is like an oven with Ginny in it."

Molly laughed and patted Hermione on the shoulder. "It'll get better," she soothed. "Here, I'll do a cooling charm on you."

"Thanks," Hermione sighed with relief as Molly tapped her on the head with her wand. "My magic is still a bit off. I tried to cast a cooling charm the other day and ice crystals formed on the tip of my nose."

Harry swallowed a laugh. "Where's Ginny?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"She's upstairs," Molly answered, pouring Hermione a cup of tea.

"She's been doing some preliminary packing," Hermione explained. "She's going through a lot of stuff she left behind when she went to Paris, trying to decide what to take and what to get rid of."

Hermione's turned towards Harry purposefully. "I understand you had a nice date last night," she said pointedly.

"Uh yeah," Harry said suspiciously. "It was great." What did Hermione know? Had Ginny TOLD her?

Then he saw the knowing glint in Hermione's eye. Oh yeah, Ginny told her. And why shouldn't she? They were best friends. But still--he sighed and ran a hand nervously through his hair--the last thing he wanted was for Hermione to drop hints about his sex life. The woman had been after good dirt like this on him for years.

He jumped up, deciding to make a quick getaway before Hermione started teasing him.

"Uh, Harry," Molly said, her eyes shifting towards the back door. "Why don't you go say hi to Arthur first. He's in his shed."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, pivoting back to the back door. "Um…is he waiting for me?" A feeling of dread was rising in the pit of his stomach.

"No," Molly assured him. "But…well, I think it might make him feel better about things, if you….you know, had a little chat with him. He's very happy for you of course, he's just well-" she stopped and took a deep breath.

"Ginny is his daughter and he loves you both," she finished simply. "I think it would comfort him to know that you were…both going to take care of each other."

She gave him a bracing smile and he could only grimace back at her before walking out the door. He moved towards the shed behind the house, the feeling of dread in his innards at full force.

Before there had been Remus, before there had been Sirius, there had been Arthur Weasley. His best friend's father was been many things to Harry—a mentor, a father-figure, a teacher, a friend, a confidant—he wore many hats in Harry's life.

Arthur and Molly had welcomed him into their home and their lives with open arms. The thought that he would be upset because Harry and Ginny would be living together gave Harry a sick feeling.

He knocked on the door and opened it up without waiting for a reply.

Arthur was hunched over his workbench, meticulously dissecting a waffle iron. He looked up when Harry stepped inside and his face brightened.

"Harry!" he said, standing up to shake Harry's hand. "How are you doing son?"

The feeling of tension in Harry's stomach lessened a bit—he had called him 'son,' that was a good sign.

"All right, I guess. Great actually," he said, shrugging. "What are you doing with that waffle iron?"

Arthur took off his glasses and noted the tenseness in Harry's expression.

"Is that what it does?" he asked amusedly. He turned back to the workbench and began straightening his tools. "Molly sent you out here didn't she?"

"Yeah," Harry said, relishing Arthur's candor. He was glad he could stop pretending he wasn't here to talk about Ginny. "She, uh, thought it might be a good idea."

Arthur chuckled and turned back around to Harry. "Well go on then, give me your schpiel."

"Schpiel?"

"Yes, you know, the big speech where you swear you love my daughter, that you'll love her forever and that you'll never hurt her. I've heard fathers usually get that when something like this happens."

Harry decided to be honest. "Sir, we're…uh…not getting married. Not just yet. It was all I could do to convince her to move in with me."

Arthur smiled. "I know son," he said. He cocked his head at Harry. "But you are…making a commitment to each other?"

"For life," Harry said honestly. "I wouldn't have asked her to move in with me if I didn't feel that way about her."

"I know Harry," Arthur replied quietly. "This is a big step and perhaps other fathers would think it was too soon but…well, I am not other fathers. And Ginny is not other daughters and you are certainly not other boyfriends."

"Sir?"

Arthur sighed and sat back down at the workbench, inviting Harry to join him on the chair next to him. "Maybe I should be more protective of my only daughter but Ginny is and has always been a strong person. I could no more tell her to not move in with you than I could tell her not to be in love with you. She makes up her own mind and that's as it should be."

He smiled at Harry again. "You're both adults," he said. "I trust you both enough to make this decision for yourselves."

"Thank you sir," Harry cleared his throat. "I really do love her you know. I am going to marry her when I can talk her into it. I've found the idea doesn't scare me at all. It's just a bit too rushed right now. But I can't stand the idea of spending another minute without her."

"I know," Arthur said knowingly. "I can tell and once you both admitted you loved each other, I knew this day would come quickly. I won't lie to you Harry, I prefer people to be married before they live together, I told Fred the same thing years ago. But it's not up to me to judge your decisions. I believe you are committed to each other and well…the idea of you and Ginny not being together forever seems ludicrous."

He raised his eyebrows at Harry. "I'm not sure anyone else could handle her actually."

Harry snorted. "Don't let her hear you say that," he muttered.

"Harry," Arthur said, his face suddenly turning serious. "Molly and I are both very pleased that you and Ginny have chosen each other. You have been like a son and we…well, we love you very much."

"I know Arthur," Harry said, a lump appearing in his throat. "I…I…feel the same. You are the only family I have."

Arthur smiled again and stood up, indicating their talk was over. He never let things get too mushy, sensing it made Harry uncomfortable. Harry felt better, especially when Arthur threw an arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick hug as they walked back to the house.

They stepped back into the warmth of the house where Molly was getting lunch ready.

"Go on," Arthur said, shoving Harry towards the steps. "I think Ginny might need a little help packing."

Harry grinned at him and sprinted up the steps.

"Lunch in 30 minutes Harry," Molly called after him.

"Alright!" He shouted back, coming to a halt in front of Ginny's door. He knocked softly.

"Ginny?"

"Come in Harry," she called back.

He opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. "How did you know it was me?"

"I felt it when you entered the wards around the Burrow," she answered distractedly. "And you're the only one who knocks."

Ginny was sitting in the center of the floor, surrounded by boxes. Actually, she was surrounded by the contents of the boxes. Papers, books, pictures and other unidentifiable things covered every inch of the floor.

"What on earth are you doing," asked Harry amusedly. He noted she was already wearing the Gryffindor Captain t-shirt he had given her last night; he hadn't even noticed it was gone this morning. Her long red hair had been twisted into a big floppy knot on top of her head and Harry could see a faint red mark he had given her on her exposed neck.

Merlin, he hoped no one else noticed that.

"I thought you were packing. It looks like you're just making a big mess instead."

"I AM packing," said Ginny crossly. "I thought I'd go through everything now so I didn't have to do it later when I unpacked."

She sighed and put down the stack of pictures she was leafing through. "It's like taking a trip down memory lane. I've cried three times since I started—every time I find something I'd forgotten about. This is 21 years worth of accumulated crap."

She looked glumly at the piles surrounding her. "I didn't mean to make such a mess really. It's sort of an organized chaos. Hermione tried to help me but her hormones are so out of whack, she cried every three minutes; whenever she found something she remembered. I couldn't take it and sent her down to mum."

Harry gingerly stepped his way to her bed and sat down. "Why all the crying?"

Ginny stood up as well and followed Harry's path through the clutter to join him on the bed. She shrugged, tucking her hands underneath her knees and looking down at the floor, her eyes searching the mess as if she would miss something.

"It's difficult," she sighed. "To leave, I mean. Harder than I thought it would be."

Harry stiffened. "Have you changed your mind?" he asked slowly.

"No of course not," she said dismissively. "It's just well-" she turned to look at him, the bun on the top of her head swinging with the movement, "it's the end of an era for me. Finally moving out of my parent's house. Even when I went to Paris, I always knew I would be back someday. I won't be back this time."

She grinned at him. "I have to go live with a boy and boys are icky."

Harry, startled by the abrupt change in her mood, ignored her last comment. "So you're sad because…you're growing up?"

Ginny beamed at him. "Very good Harry! That's exactly how it feels. Even though I've been grown up for some time now, it's just well…final somehow."

Harry smiled sympathetically. "I know how you feel. I felt the same way when I moved out of the Burrow into Grimmauld Place. I lived here for over a year you know, after you left. It was really difficult to spend that first night in my new place."

He grinned and reached out, tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull her closer to him. "Of course, I was all alone and you won't be."

"Hmmm," Ginny said, leaning into his chest, and settling between his outstretched legs. "That's right, Dobby will be there."

He ignored that comment as well. Instead, he snaked an arm around her waist, slipped a hand under the loose t-shirt and stroked her side. He leaned down and nuzzled her cheek before kissing it softly. "I missed you."

"That's silly. It's been less than seven hours," she said, turning her face to press her lips against his. He pressed back and they hung there, suspended for what seemed like several moments, touching their lips together. Ginny felt like she was breathing him in and she wanted more. She whimpered and he immediately responded, moving his mouth against hers, capturing her bottom lip between his own and nibbling. She couldn't stop a satisfied moan from escaping.

"Okay," she breathed, breaking away from the kiss. "Maybe I missed you too. In fact, maybe I came home, tried to sleep, realized I couldn't sleep without you and spent the rest of the morning remembering the Goblin Wars of 1567 to keep my mind off of you."

"I don't mind your mind on me," Harry said honestly. "I'm pretty sure I'd like to be the only thing in your mind." He snuggled her closer and bent his head down to run his tongue on the outer shell of her ear.

"Ginny," he said between laps of his tongue. "Merge with me?"

Ginny smiled to herself. She had wanted the same thing; she needed the connection after having to leave him in bed this morning. It had been a sort of emotional morning.

She sighed happily and opened herself up to welcome his magic inside of her.

Harry poured his energy into her and felt the fire within her swimming in his veins. "Gods you feel good," he said, nuzzling her neck.

They were quiet for a moment, reveling in the feel of each other's power. Harry finally pulled away and stood up, holding out a hand for Ginny to take.

"C'mon Nix, your mum said lunch was ready soon."

She took his hand and followed him through the path he had created in the mess on her floor. "Stay with me?" she asked, when they reached the top of the steps.

"Sure," he said, not needing to ask what she meant. She wanted to keep their magic merged. He could tell why. One of the side effects of sharing magic was the increased awareness they had of each other's emotions. Ginny must have had an intense morning, judging by the turbulent feelings rolling around inside of her.

He wished he had some words of wisdom for her but he suspected this was something Ginny was going to have to work through on her own.

"It's okay," she said, squeezing his hand as he pulled her behind him on the steps. "I know you'd help if you could."

"Sometimes I think you can read my thoughts when we do this," he muttered. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

"It's not that I can read your thoughts per se," she explained. "It's like we're so connected that I can sort of see them."

"Here, see if you can see this one. I'm going to think really hard about something." She halted on the steps and shut her eyes, concentrating on a thought.

Harry stilled, searching their connection for what Ginny was thinking. His mind grasped onto a fuzzy image and he gasped.

"Ginny! Stop that! You're going to get me all worked up and you're parents are right downstairs," he hissed. "I am not doing that to you in this house!"

Ginny pressed against his side, giggling. "See what I mean about knowing what I'm thinking?"

"Yes," Harry said hoarsely, letting go of her hand to readjust the fly of his jeans. "No need for elaboration." He set off quickly down the stairs again, blushing while Ginny giggled even harder behind him.

"Quit it," he whispered. "Hermione is down there, she's going to know something is up if you keep at it."

"Is something up?" Ginny asked innocently. She was practically skipping the steps.

Harry shot her a venomous look over his shoulder. "Behave yourself Phoenix or I'll-"

He shot a thought through the connection, smirking with satisfaction when her eyes widened, as she comprehended the image.

"Oh!" she gasped with indignation, stopping on the last step. "You wouldn't!"

"Try me," he said smugly, turning his head to find Hermione standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest. Harry gulped.

"Try what?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Nothing," he said shortly. "Just a little inside joke."

Hermione smirked at him and walked past him to sit at the table. Ginny stood next to Harry, biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from grinning.

"You're scared of her aren't you?" She asked him. "I wonder why?"

Harry bristled and turned to his girlfriend. "You know why," he said in a low voice. "She's got a way of worming embarrassing things out of me. Remember that time she made me tell her about the sex talk Remus gave me? She wouldn't quit until I told her what he said and then she added things to it! Do you know how embarrassing that was? She's like my sister."

He looked back at Hermione with a disgusted look on his face. "I don't know how she wears me down but I can tell she's itching to ask me about last night."

Ginny laughed, unable to stop herself. "She does it on purpose you git," she nudged him with her elbow. "She loves making you blush. It's sort of game with her."

"I know," he moaned, walking over to sit next to Arthur.

"Know what?" Hermione asked innocently, filling Harry's glass with pumpkin juice.

"That you enjoy embarrassing me," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at her. "It's some sort of sick game you play."

"Why Harry, I don't know what you mean," Hermione said, spearing a bite of potato salad and chewing thoughtfully. "Sounds like you're a bit paranoid."

"I am not," Harry said firmly. He reached across the table for a sandwich. "You're always trying to get me to share things I normally wouldn't tell anyone. I don't know how you talk me into some of it."

Hermione opened her eyes widely and rubbed her swollen stomach. "I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"Look at her," Ginny laughed, sitting next to Hermione at the table. "She's rubbing her stomach so you'll remember she's pregnant and fragile."

"Shut it," Hermione said out of the corner of her mouth, not daring to look at her friend. "You'll give away all my secrets."

Harry huffed and took a bite of his sandwich glaring at his friend and girlfriend who were now whispering in low voices to each other—probably about him. He wasn't really mad at Hermione, although it was frustrating how she could get him to tell her anything—often, it wouldn't be until much later that he realized what he had said.

What he was was sexually frustrated. The image he had gotten from Ginny—well, it wasn't an image, more like a consciousness of her thoughts—had done nothing to ease the need he had for her. Right here, in her parent's home. Parents that had also nurtured and loved him since he was 11 years old. And what did he want to do to repay them? Shag their daughter underneath their noses. He felt like a randy pervert.

He looked up from scowling at his sandwich to where Ginny was sitting across the table. She must have sensed his tension because a wave of peace suddenly washed over him. Damn, she was good. She wasn't even looking at him and had used their connection and her gift of empathy to ease his frustration.

Ginny was sitting close to Hermione, their heads bent close together as they leaned on each other's shoulders. Harry watched as Hermione smiled and put her head on top of Ginny's as the redhead absentmindedly stroked Hermione's belly. Hermione said something and Ginny laughed quietly, leaning down to place a kiss her friend's stomach. She whispered something, presumably to the babies, and Hermione gasped, shoving her away with a laugh.

"Don't tell them that," she scolded, trying but failing to keep the smile off her face.

"Too late," Ginny said smugly. "It's the aunt's prerogative."

Hermione laughed again and bent over her stomach, whispering to the babies herself. "There," she said, straightening up, "that ought to negate your evil influence."

"Let's see," Ginny said. She placed her hand on Hermione's belly again and concentrated.

Hermione sat still, watching her friend's face with a contented expression. After a moment, Ginny looked at her and grinned.

"How are they?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"They're wonderful," Ginny replied, keeping one hand on her stomach and reaching up with the other one to tuck a piece of hair behind Hermione's ear. "They're happy and warm and they said to tell their dad the Chudley Cannons suck."

Hermione burst out in laughter.

Harry watched them with a small smile on his face. The two of them were so close. He'd almost forgotten what they could be like when they were together. They were more affectionate with each other than they used to be; he supposed that came from being separated for so long. He knew Hermione had really missed Ginny when she moved away. She didn't get along very well with other witches her age—Ginny and Tonks were her closest friends.

During the war, when Ginny hadn't been helping Harry, she had clung with a fierceness to Hermione and Tonks. Often, when she and Harry had returned back to the Gryffindor common room after a particularly grueling training session, Ginny would make a beeline for Hermione who would set aside whatever she was working on to go upstairs with her friend, presumably to comfort her.

And when Ginny had killed Lucius Malfoy after he raised his wand to Harry's back, she had collapsed to the ground, shaken at what she had just done. It was the first time she had killed someone. Harry had tried to go to her but Tonks and Hermione beat him to it. Tonks had cast a featherweight charm on Ginny and lifted her like a baby, holding the shaking girl to her tightly. Hermione had wrapped her arms around them and apparated all three of them back to Grimwauld Place. She'd surprised Harry with the amount of power she had shown—apparating three people wasn't easy.

Later that same evening, after Harry had returned to headquarters to check on Ginny and to thank her for what she had done, Molly had explained to him that she had taken a dreamless sleep potion and gone to bed. He had peaked in on her on his way to his own bedroom and wasn't surprised to find Ginny, Tonks and Hermione all curled up together on Ginny's bed. She had fallen asleep on Hermione's shoulder with Tonks holding her hand.

Harry had been irrationally jealous that Hermione and Tonks were the ones who had comforted Ginny. It had been just another thing Voldemort had taken away from him—the right to comfort the woman he loved.

Watching the two friends now, Harry felt guilty for being jealous of Ginny's friends. After all, he'd had his own ways of dealing with things back then. Usually he'd gotten mad and thown things.

He finished his sandwich and reached for another. "Where's Ron?" he asked Arthur.

"Had to go into work at the last minute," came the reply. "Something to do at Hogwart's I believe. You know they're holding the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year?"

Harry nodded and swallowed his bite. Ron was an Auror, in charge of his own team and he often had to work overtime.

Wiping his mouth, he said, "I can't believe they're going to do it after what happened the last time."

"Supposedly tighter security this year," Arthur grumbled. He took a swig of pumpkin juice. "I can't believe Minerva is allowing it."

"I don't think she had a choice," Molly commented. "The board of governors insisted."

Harry scoffed. "I'm not having a thing to do with it," he swore. "They keep bugging me to attend the tasks and I keep sending nastier and nastier replies. They just don't get it. Even if nothing went wrong, it's too many bad memories." He shuddered unconsciously.

"Perhaps you should tell Minerva," Molly suggested kindly. "Maybe she could pass the word along."

Harry grunted in reply, trying not to lose his good mood. Ginny must have sensed he was teetering on the edge because she quickly changed the subject.

Harry looked at her gratefully as the conversation swung to whether Percy would quit his ministry job. She winked at him and took another bite of her sandwich.

Harry stared as her small pink tongue swept out to lick a bit of mustard off her lip. He inhaled sharply, the sexual frustration from before returning in full force. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him as she felt the rise in his energy. He flushed and she kicked him gently underneath the table.

"Stop it," she mouthed to him. "We're still connected."

As if Harry could forget. Despite Ginny's admonishment, he could feel that his continued desire for her was increasing her own. The flames in the fireplace raised a bit—an indication that her power was trying to escape.

An image flashed unbidden through his mind. Ginny was thinking about last night. He could feel the sensations in her magic and knew without looking that her nipples had just tightened. His desire took another dramatic spike upwards and he desperately tried to NOT think about the way it had felt to finally be inside of her.

The fire in the fireplace was roaring now and Ginny was flushed. Harry was glad the other three were so engrossed in their conversation they didn't notice the two of them breathing heavily and staring avidly at each other. Harry licked his lips nervously and Ginny stiffened, clenching her fork until her knuckles turned white. The dishes on the table gave a tiny rattle and Molly stopped speaking to stare at the plates strangely.

Harry looked at Ginny regretfully and withdrew the connection. It was wrenching but the only way. They were getting out of hand and someone had to have the strength to pull out.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when she felt Harry pulling away. She looked over at Hermione whose eyes were flicking back and forth between Harry and Ginny suspiciously. Ginny just smiled brightly at her and continued eating. No way was she going to explain to Hermione what had just happened.

Harry and Ginny finished their lunch, avoiding each other's eyes. They helped her mother clear the table and reluctantly went back upstairs after Hermione and Molly had shooed them away to finish packing.

"Go on and help her Harry," Hermione said. "I'm too emotional right now. I'm sure you can…take care of things better than I could."

Harry shot her a dark look. "Evil," he mouthed at his friend when Molly had turned her back but she just grinned at back at him. He knew what Hermione was trying to do and no way was he going to be able to concentrate on Ginny like he wanted to if they stayed in her parent's house.

He followed Ginny up the stairs, trying not to stare at the way her hips and bum moved underneath the loose cutoff jeans she was wearing.

"Stop it," Ginny said in a low voice when they reached the first landing. "I can feel that you know."

Harry mumbled something under his breath but Ginny didn't quite catch it. She opened the door to her room and let him walk past her before slamming it behind him.

"What was that?" she whispered fiercely. "Are you trying to shag me in front of my family! Get yourself under control."

"It wasn't all just me," he replied hotly. "I wasn't the one causing the flames to reach to the roof of the kitchen!"

"Well, if you could just control yourself for a few minutes then I wouldn't have gotten out of hand!" she hissed at him.

"You're the one licking your lips and…and wearing those shorts and…and looking all sexy!" he said, a bit too loudly.

"Keep your voice down," she whispered. "Someone is going to hear you!

"Fine," he whispered back. "I'm a pervert okay. We made love twice last night and it's still not enough for me. I've been carrying around this hard-on since you left me this morning."

"So this is my fault for leaving you in bed?"

"I didn't say that!" He said. "I just meant – oh hell." He sat down abruptly on the edge of her bed and put his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, I know that was inappropriate. I just couldn't stop it. We shouldn't have stayed connected."

"I couldn't help it either," Ginny confessed after a moment. She sighed and walked over to sit next to him.

"I can't believe we were just arguing about who turned the other on first," she said.

"I was all prepared to just go home and wank," Harry said grumpily. "That sneaky Hermione insisted I come up here right in front of your parents. She knew we wouldn't be able to do anything and that I couldn't refuse to help you in front of them."

Ginny snorted. She wasn't sure which was more amusing; the idea of Harry wanking alone in his bedroom or the fact that he was so blasé about sharing that tidbit of information with her.

"Well, I'm sorry she…uh…ruined your plans," she said, trying not to laugh at the glum expression on his face.

Harry looked at her hopefully. "Maybe if we're really quiet-" he began.

"Oh no," Ginny said, jumping up and backing away. "Not in my parent's house."

Harry stood up as well, a laviscous look on his face.

"C'mon," he teased, walking towards her, "it'll be dangerous. I know how you like danger."

Ginny's personal alarm bells were going off. She had never seen that look on Harry's face before. For the second time that day, she was reminded of a predator stalking its' prey.

Harry backed her into the corner between to her closet and desk and pressed his body against her, caging her in with his arms on either side of her head. "You're not fighting very hard Nix," he breathed into her ear.

Ginny swallowed. No, she wasn't. In fact, she didn't want to fight him at all. Her body was begging for his touch but they were in her parent's home. They had been so understanding this morning, she really didn't think it would be a good idea to-

All reasonable thoughts were suddenly cut off when Harry leaned down and put his mouth on the tip of her right breast, sucking it through the fabric of her t-shirt and her bra.

She gasped and arched into him, her hands coming up to clasp his head against her. Thoughts of Hermione and her parents being right downstairs flew out of her head. Her head fell back and Harry let go of her breast, moving his mouth up her throat, finally stopping to wrap his arms around her and pull her tight against his chest. He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with barely controlled savagery, his fingers biting into her waist.

Ginny moaned at her first taste of Harry. She could taste the pumpkin juice he'd just finished but underneath it was the always present taste of just Harry. It was intoxicating.

So was the way he was stroking her tongue with his own.

"Please Ginny," he panted, breaking the kiss to place frantic kisses on her neck. "Merlin I need you so bad."

"I can feel that," she purred, closing her eyes and curling her hips into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself tighter against him, rubbing against him like a cat.

His erection pressed insistently into the softness of her stomach. The hardness of it made her groan. "Gods, I want that inside of me," she breathed, lifting up on her toes to suck on his neck.

Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and his hands moved down her back, past her bum. He slid his hands underneath the hems of her loose shorts, pushing each leg up until he could fill his hands with her bottom. He scrambled to shove his hands underneath her underwear, groaning when he finally encountered bare flesh.

"What have I said about wearing underwear?" he breathed as Ginny worked her hands underneath the front of his jumper.

"Nothing," she said distractedly as she pulled his shirt out of his jeans. "You haven't said anything about underwear."

"Stop wearing it," he commanded her. But his voice was muffled because Ginny had slipped out of his grasp and was pulling his jumper and shirt over his head. He stepped away to take the tops off before throwing them onto the floor.

He immediately moved back to press Ginny back into the wall, smirking when she ran her hands over his bare chest and shuddering when she leaned forward to place her hot mouth over his nipple. She teased the nub with her teeth, scraping back and forth gently.

It was torture.

"You should know that I will give you whatever you want when you do that," Harry gasped. He had never realized how sensitive his nipples were. They'd seemed pretty useless until now.

Ginny moved her ministrations to the other nipple and finishing there, began pressing wet, open mouth kisses on his chest. The muscles in his stomach tightened as she moved her mouth over them, stopping to swirl her tongue in his belly button, eventually pushing him away to kneel in front of him.

"Ginny?" He said blankly.

But she didn't answer. She had a hard blazing look on her face as she reached for his belt buckle. She fumbled with the clasp and made quick work of his belt. When she reached for the clasp of his jeans, he stilled her movements with his hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, her eyes golden with desire. "You said I could touch you," she said in a husky voice. She unbuttoned his jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. " And I want to touch you right now."

Harry swallowed. "You…you don't have to do that," he ground out.

Ginny just grinned as his pants fell to his ankles and she ran her fingers up his legs to the hem of his boxers. "Oh but I want to," she whispered. "I want to taste _more_ of you."

Harry exhaled sharply and Ginny yanked his boxers down to join his jeans. His erection sprang out; happy to escape the confines of the clothing Harry had stuffed it into earlier this morning.

Harry groaned as Ginny wrapped her hands around him, stroking his penis reverently. When she reached out to touch him with the tip of her tongue, he gasped and braced a hand onto the wall next to him to catch himself as his knees buckled.

"Silencing charm Harry," Ginny hissed at him.

Harry immediately understood and waved a hand over his mouth, casting a silencing charm on himself. He knew there was no way he could keep silent.

He cursed silently as Ginny tentatively ran her tongue up and down his shaft, following the bulging veins, finally stopping to swirl her tongue around the tip of him. Shite, he wasn't going to make it if she didn't get on with it.

He waved another hand, canceling the silencing charm. "Ginny please," he whispered hoarsely.

"Please what a ghra?" she asked breathlessly.

"Suck it," he begged shamelessly. "Gods you're killing me."

Ginny giggled. "I've never done this before Harry. You'll have to show me what to do."

"You're doing just fine," he panted.

She opened her mouth over the tip of him again and Harry quickly threw the silencing charm back on before groaning in ecstasy. Sliding into her mouth was almost as good as sliding into her body. She took him in her mouth slowly; sucking and licking him until Harry thought he would explode.

His hands came up to tangle in her hair of their own volition. He frantically took out the clip and sighed with relief when he slid his hands into her tresses, holding her to him as he showed her how to pump her mouth and hands over him. Her hair spilled over his fingers and thighs, hiding her from his view but he reached down a hand and swept the hair over one shoulder. He wanted to watch her as she sucked him.

Ginny hoped desperately she was doing this correctly. Harry seemed to be enjoying it immensely if the tension in his body was any indication. She had never felt this powerful before. Harry was at her mercy and was happy to be there. The knowledge that she could do this to him thrilled her. It was intoxicating and she wanted more. She opened her mouth further to take more of him in, groaning when his shaft nudged the back of her throat. He tasted just like she thought he would—of earth and salt and spice.

She sucked harder and Harry's hips suddenly jerked once, twice, three times. Ginny felt her mouth fill and she swallowed involuntarily, sucking on him until there was nothing left and he sagged against the wall beside him.

She took her mouth off of his softening penis and looked up at him in satisfaction.

Harry looked down at her wearily. "You look like the cat that just caught the canary," he said breathing heavily.

He tugged at her hair, indicating he wanted her to stand up. She got off her knees and nestled into his chest when he wrapped his arms around her.

Harry figured he probably looked pretty silly standing there against the wall naked with his pants around his ankles but he needed to just hold her for a minute. He was still shaking from the force of his climax.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's waist and held him tightly. He was trembling. She ran her hands soothingly up and down his back, whispering softly to him in Gaelic.

"Thank you," he finally whispered back to her. "That was…amazing…I've never-"

He cut off, not knowing how to finish this sentence. He had never imagined such an act would be so…intimate.

"I liked it," she murmured into his neck. "You taste wonderful. I can't wait to do it again."

Harry shuddered. "You ARE trying to kill me," he said, dropping his head onto her shoulder. "Death by blow job. I can see the headlines in the _Daily Prophet_ now."

She chuckled and pulled away, allowing him to bend down and pull up his pants. "But what a way to go eh Potter?"

"Minx," he shot at her, buckling his belt. He left the jumper off but pulled the t-shirt over his head.

Ginny reached up and smoothed his hair back down. He pulled her back into his arms, sighing when her body molded against his own so perfectly.

"I love you," he said, kissing her hard for a moment. He could taste himself on her lips. "More than-"

"I love _you_," she whispered, sliding her hands up his arms and wrapping them around his neck. "So much."

"Man I can't wait to be with you everyday," he sighed. "When are you moving in? Tonight?"

"Tuesday," she said, laughing at his eagerness. He leaned forward a bit and kissed her on her nose. "Mum and Dad are throwing a party to celebrate our new 'jobs,'" she lifted her hands to make quotations marks in the air. "We agreed I'd be packed up by then."

"What did they say about the job?" he asked warily. He figured Arthur knew more than he let on about the nature of Harry's job.

"They were happy for both of us," Ginny said. "But I suspect Dad knows more about what we'll actually be doing than he let on. He knew I was lying but he didn't mention it."

She stepped out of his embrace and turned to face the mess on her floor, her hands on her hips. "I guess I should get back to work."

"I'll help," Harry offered, making a space for him to sit on the floor. "What's the strategy?"

Ginny pointed to a row of boxes against the far wall. "Hermione labeled those for me. Each one is for something different; papers, pictures, old schoolwork, etc. Don't throw anything out without asking me though."

She sighed and looked at her closet. "This is the easy part. The hard part is going to be going through my clothes and deciding what to get rid of."

"Ginny," Harry said amused. "Grimwauld Place has plenty of room, you don't need to get rid of anything if you don't want to."

Ginny's face softened. "I know, but there are a lot of robes and muggle things I don't wear in there. I thought I'd donate them to that wizard orphanage you funded."

Harry smiled brightly at her. "That's a great idea."

They worked in companionable silence for several minutes. Harry chuckled to himself over some of the pictures he found of Ginny and Ron as babies including one memorable wizarding photo of Ginny in her underwear, shaking her finger at whoever was taking the photograph. She must have been all of three years old. He looked over at her out of the corner of his eye and shoved the picture into his back pocket. No telling when something like that would come in handy.

There were several good photos of Ginny and her friends at Hogwarts that he assumed were taken by Colin Creevy. The later pictures included himself, Ron and Hermione more often than not.

Harry was lost in own trip down memory lane when something soft smacked him on the side of the head.

"Oi Potter!"

He looked over to find Ginny glaring at him. She had thrown a stuffed unicorn at him. The unicorn apparently did not take kindly to being thrown because it stood up on his stuffed legs and stalked away in a huff.

"What?" he asked. "Why'd you hit me?"

Ginny shrugged. "Couldn't resist. Quit looking at all the pictures and get back to work."

"Sorry," Harry grinned sheepishly. "Just got carried away."

Ginny stood up and lifted a large pile of papers over to the wall, dumping them unceremoniously into a box marked "Rubbish."

Harry motioned to the stack of pictures he'd been sorting and Ginny watched while they floated past her, separating themselves into boxes marked "School Photos" and "Childhood Memorabilia."

"It's handy having a powerful boyfriend," she commented, before turning back to the piles she had sorted on the floor.

Harry stretched his back and scooted over to an open box on his left to start sorting it.

"Ginny," he began, plunging his hands into a mess of what looked like old letters, cards and childhood scribbling on pieces of parchment. "What did your parents say this morning when you told them about us?"

Ginny stopped leafing through a stack of old Hogwart's notebooks to look at him. "They were wonderful about it," she said honestly. "It was surprising how understanding they were. Didn't they talk to you?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, pulling out a putrid yellow birthday card obviously designed by a younger Fred and George. "They told me they loved me and they were really happy for us."

"Me too. They seemed to expect it really," Ginny mused. She set the stack of notebooks down and snapped her fingers, burning them up in a white hot flash of fire. She looked back at him.

"We had an emotional family moment," she explained. "I'm their last child to leave home and well, it was sort of sad but happy at the same time."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I get that."

She held her hand out and the clip Harry had removed from her hair earlier zoomed into it. "Did they tell you they wished we were getting married but understood why we needed to be together anyway?" asked Ginny, as she twisted her hair into another knot.

"They did," Harry affirmed. "I didn't know quite what to say."

"Me neither," Ginny agreed. "I made it clear we weren't getting married but it didn't even phase my mum. I expected her to go spare."

Harry turned back to his box. "How do you feel about that?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

Ginny looked at him searchingly. He was pretending it was a causal question but she could feel his increased anxiety. She decided to be completely honest with him.

"I think marriage is the natural progression for us," she said slowly. "When we're ready for it." She held her breath waiting for his response.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Me too," he agreed, finally looking at her. "I was nervous what you would think but like I told your dad, it was all I could do to convince you to live with me, getting you to marry me is going to take some time."

"What else did you tell my dad?" asked Ginny.

Green eyes met brown ones. "I told him we were committed to each other for life and that I love you. I made it clear that we would definitely get married some day."

They stared at each other. Something shifted between them and Harry could almost feel the threads that connected them cementing into place. Ginny must have felt it too because she sent a tendril of magic out to him. Harry smiled when their magic merged but the smile quickly faded when a golden aura burst into existence as soon as their magic connected.

They stopped staring at each other to stare at the new aura.

"This happened last night," Ginny said in awe. She reached out a hand to drag her fingers through the golden light. She gasped.

"It feels…goddess, it feels amazing. Touch it Harry."

He reached out his own hand and watched as the golden light envelop his fingers. Both of them were so engrossed in what was happening they didn't hear the door open until it was too late.

Harry jumped at the gasp from the door behind him and turned around to see Hermione standing in the doorway, her mouth fallen open in shock.

"Shut the door," Ginny hissed at her.

Hermione obeyed immediately and stepped into the room, quickly closing the door behind her.

"What is that?" she breathed, indicating the swirling golden light surrounding Harry and Ginny.

"It's an aura," Harry said distractedly. "It appears to be our aura."

Hermione looked confused. "What do you mean 'our' aura? Whose aura?"

"Ours," he replied impatiently. "Mine and Ginny's. It's been happening lately when we merge magic."

"But that's…that's-" Hermione stopped when she found she was out of words. Her mind quickly began running through the possibilities. She had never seen anything like this before. The urge to pop over to the ministry library was increasing…

"Hermione," Ginny warned, recognizing the look in her friend's eyes. "Calm down."

She looked at Harry. "I think we should break the connection, someone else could easily come up here."

He nodded and withdrew his magic from her, his body panging at the loss of warmth and passion that always raced through him when he and Ginny connected.

"What did you do that for?" Hermione wailed. "I wanted to touch it."

"No!" Harry said sharply; too sharply apparently because Hermione looked at him startled.

"I'm sorry 'Mione," he apologized, shifting uncomfortably. "But it's…personal. No one should touch it except for Ginny and me. It would feel…like a violation I think."

"It seems to happen only when we're feeling particularly…emotional towards each other," Ginny explained slowly.

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face and she blushed. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"S'alright Hermione," Harry smiled slightly at her.

"Maybe you wouldn't mind doing a little private research about it," Ginny asked quietly, praying Harry would agree with her. It would make Hermione feel important to help them. "But please don't tell anyone else. And you have to understand there are going to be certain questions we are not going to feel comfortable answering."

"Sure," Hermione agreed instantly, recovering her composure. "I'll do a little looking next week and let you know what I find."

Harry scowled at Ginny when Hermione wasn't looking but she just gave him a look that said 'we'll talk about it later.' He hoped she would have a good excuse for this, the last thing he needed was Hermione asking him personal questions about what else happened to him when Ginny turned him on.

But the aura didn't seem to be necessarily about sex, Harry mused to himself as he returned to the box he'd been sorting through. Just a moment ago, it had happened when they were sitting across the room from each other. Maybe it happened only when they were feeling…loving?

The three of them worked without stopping for the next three hours. Hermione sorted through Ginny's closet and drawers; packing items that were too small in a box she carefully labeled "Donations." Ginny and Harry worked diligently on the pile of boxes she had brought with her from Paris and some her mother had brought down that morning from the attic.

It was nearly time for supper when Harry finally stood up, stretching his cramped leg muscles. Ginny walked over and leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She rested her head on his chest and sighed. "It's weird to see your whole life packed into just a few boxes," she said.

Hermione chuckled, folding up the last of the pile to be donated to the orphanage. "That is exactly the way I felt when I was going through my stuff before Ron and I got married. You're handling it much better than I did. My mother found me surrounded by boxes, crying my heart out over a diary I had kept in the 2nd grade."

Ginny snorted. "I bet Ron handled that well."

"He wasn't there," Hermione informed her. "I didn't trust him to just not throw everything away. He tried to help but when he threw away the clipping of hair my mother had saved from my first haircut, I sent him home.

"'It's just some old hair Hermione!'" she mimicked with some accuracy. Ginny and Harry laughed while Hermione sealed the final box with spell-o-tape before straightening up.

"There," she said with satisfaction. "Harry, you can take these by the orphanage on your way home."

"All right Hermione," he agreed mechanically. "Ginny, do you want me to shrink some of these boxes and take them over to the house when I leave?"

"Sure," she agreed. She pointed out the ones she was ready to send with him and Harry stuffed them into his pocket.

"I'll put them in one of the empty rooms," he told her. "We'll unpack them next week sometime."

Ginny smiled brilliantly up at him and he bent down to kiss her, his hands still in his pockets as she leaned into him.

"Well!" Hermione said loudly. "Guess I'll be going. Ron's going to be home soon and I promised I'd cook."

"Try not to burn the water this time 'Mione," Ginny said wryly, pulling away from Harry.

Hermione scowled at her. "I didn't burn the water. It evaporated!"

Harry bit back a smile but Ginny just laughed out loud. He followed the women out of the room and down the stairs, chuckling as they argued good-naturedly with each other. Ginny walked Hermione to the fireplace, kissed her on the cheek and patted the babies goodbye. Hermione took a pinch of floo powder and tossed it into the fire.

Just as the fire was about to whirl her friend away, Ginny stuck her head close to the flames and shouted, "Don't forget to use that special sauce you told me about on his noodles!"

Hermione gasped at her in outrage but the floo powder had done its job and she was swept away before she could retaliate.

Ginny pulled back just in time, laughing at the expression on her friend's face.

"I bet she sends a howler to me for that one," she told Harry, still chuckling. "Oooh, I should tell Tonks I did that, she'd think it's hysterical." She reached into the floo pot for another pinch and prepared to fire-call the Lupins.

Harry suddenly felt nauseous. "Do I want to know what that was about?" he asked wincing.

"No, probably not," Ginny advised. "I didn't want to know about it either but you know how Hermione is; she always wants to share the…um…benefit of her experience."

"Enough said," Harry said, backing away and holding up his hands for her to stop. "I don't want to hear another word."

Ginny laughed at him and knelt down in front of the fire to call Tonks. Harry walked back into the kitchen hoping Molly would take pity on him and offer him a slice of pie. He found her standing over the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious.

"Will you stay for dinner dear?" she asked, looking up as he entered her domain.

Harry paused as he heard a burst of laughter from the living room. He smiled.

"I'd love to," he said.

Later that night, after Ginny had given him a goodbye kiss that curled his toes in his shoes, Harry apparated back to Grimwauld Place. It was depressingly quiet after the warmth and laughter of the Burrow.

He walked moodily up to his bedroom, and got ready for bed, sighing as he slipped under the covers and caught the faintest whiff of Ginny from the sheets. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, not the least bit excited to go to sleep without her in his bed.

He lay there for almost an hour, trying to will himself to fall asleep before finally giving it up as a lost cause. He'd only spent one night with her and he was already hooked. He sat up and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

Looking at the clock, he made a decision. It was late enough; Ginny had said she was going straight to bed—she'd plenty of time to get ready by now. Molly and Arthur would never have to know.

Standing up, he apparated himself straight to Ginny's room, easily passing through the wards she had placed on the bedroom. The room was dark and he stood still for minute letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before walking over to Ginny's bed. She was lying on her side, breathing softly, her head resting on her hands. Harry tried not to feel grumpy that SHE had been able to get to sleep.

He made his way to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, fitting his body tightly around her and pulling her against him.

She awoke with a gasp.

"Sshhh," he soothed. "It's just me."

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I couldn't sleep," Harry muttered into her shoulder.

"So you thought you'd come wake me up too?" she asked.

"No, I thought if I came here, I would be able to get to sleep."

"Why?"

"Because this is where you are," Harry explained patiently. "And it was cold all alone in that big bed. A man needs something warm to snuggle with before he can get to sleep."

Ginny laughed softly and wiggled against him, fitting herself into the shelter of his body. "All men?" she asked

"No," Harry conceded. "Just this man."

She laughed again and was silent.

"Goodnight then," she finally whispered.

"Love you," Harry mumbled sleepily.

Ginny tried to answer but a quiet snore told her he was already asleep. She fell back asleep herself, a soft smile on her face.


	13. Chapter 13 Love Drabbles

Author's note: Thanks for the great reviews. And thanks for bearing with me during these few "transitional chapters." You might be thinking they're having a bit too much sex after this one but c'mon, Harry deserves a break now and then! 

Charlie Weasley knocked softly on the open door to his sister's bedroom. Ginny turned halfway around; her slender profile silhouetted against the setting sun that shone through the window.

"Hey," he said, casually leaning against the doorjamb. "Mum was looking for you."

"I've been saying goodbye to my room."

Charlie smiled. "I think she wanted to impart some last words of advice before you and Harry left."

Ginny rolled her eyes. More emotional scenes she did not need.

"She's probably going to slip me her personal copy of 'The Married Witches' Guide to Keeping Your Wizard Happy'," she said, only half-joking.

"You and Harry aren't getting married," Charlie pointed out.

Ginny shrugged. "I think she reckons its close enough." She smiled at him and turned back around to look out the window.

Charlie pushed himself off the doorjamb, hands still in his pockets, and walked over to stand behind his baby sister. Instinctively, she leaned back against him and he put his chin on top of her head, sharing the view with her.

"What are you thinking about up here half-pint?"

Ginny snorted. "When will you ever stop calling me that? I haven't been a half-pint since I was seven."

"You'll always be a half-pint in this family," Charlie said. He smirked but she couldn't see it. "Even next to me and I'm the shortest brother."

Ginny huffed. "Even Harry, who I could always count on to be the closest to my height, seems to have shot up over the past four years. I have to stand on my tiptoes just to kiss him."

They were silent for a few moments. Then: "You look good together."

"We do?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah," he said. "Really good."

Ginny stood up straight and turned around, her brown and gold eyes searching his face. "You approve then?" she asked. "'Cause you've been a little quiet since we decided to live together."

Charlie smiled ruefully at her. "It's just a little hard to take in," he said. "One minute you're setting his hair on fire and the next you're snogging him."

He cocked his head at her. "Well, maybe doing a bit more than snogging."

Ginny blushed prettily and Charlie laughed quietly. He took a hand out of his pocket and reached up to run a thumb gently over her cheekbone.

"When did you get so gorgeous?" he asked quietly. "I turned around and you were all grown up."

Ginny grunted and turned back towards the window, settling back into her brother's embrace. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed tightly, his chin coming back up to rest on the top of her head.

"That's sort of how I've been feeling," she said finally. "I'd lament my lost childhood but to be honest, I'd rather not repeat it from age 11 on. So I'm wondering when I officially grew up."

Charlie was quiet for a moment, processing her words. "I think," he said finally, "it was when you killed Lucius Malfoy."

Ginny hesitated before nodding in agreement. "Yeah," she said softly. "That probably did it."

Brother and sister were silent for several more moments. Charlie could sense that Ginny had something on her mind but he could wait until she was ready to talk about it. She'd been quiet all night at the family party their parents hosted to celebrate Harry and Ginny's new job.

Of course, she'd shone with that now-familiar inner glow whenever Harry was around. Both of them did. Charlie meant it when he said she was gorgeous. Harry had barely been able to keep his hands off of her—something all the Weasley brothers noticed with a certain amount of disgust and irritation.

Before dinner, Charlie had happened to step into the hallway to retrieve a toy his son had kicked out of the living room only to find Harry and Ginny occupying the dark corner by the window at the end of the hall. Harry had Ginny backed against the wall and was running his hands up and down the sides of her tight black dress, caressing the curves underneath like he owned them. They didn't even see Charlie, engrossed as they were in each other. Harry was nuzzling Ginny's neck--whispering something to her that caused her to laugh with a quiet breathless sound Charlie had never heard his sister make before.

"I've also been standing here wondering how many sunsets I've watched out of this window," Ginny finally said, breaking the silence. "The sad part is that I have no idea and I wish now I'd paid closer attention."

"Why are you so sad about leaving the Burrow?" asked Charlie, suddenly realizing what his sister was so gloomy about.

"I'm not sad, so much as…emotional about it. I guess I missed it more than I'd realized when I lived in Paris and now I'm leaving again; for good this time," she answered.

"Are you changing your mind?" he inquired. "'Cause it's not too late. We can just move all your stuff back."

Ginny laughed quietly. "Oh no, I've been waiting to be with Harry for 10 years, I'm not changing my mind."

"Is it too soon then?" Charlie asked, hugging her tighter to him.

"No." Ginny shook her head. "It's just…different. Everything is going to be different from now on. I'm trying to process it."

"Not the first time everything's been different," Charlie commented.

Ginny sighed. "You ever notice how most of the major events in my life are tied up with Harry Potter?"

"Hmm…that's one way of looking at it I suppose," said Charlie thoughtfully.

"What's the other way?" Ginny unwrapped herself from his arms and turned around to face her brother.

Charlie looked at her, his eyes searching her face. "I've watched you make a lot of hard choices," he said slowly, as if he was trying to think about his words very carefully. "And every time, you chose to follow Harry, to be with him, to fight for him. So if a lot of the events of your life are tied up with him, it's because you chose that path yourself."

"With a few exceptions," he conceded, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jeans. "Like the Chamber and your power—you didn't choose any of that, neither did Harry for that matter. But knowing that you had a choice in most of it—that should make you feel better."

A slow grin spread over Ginny's face. "You're right," she said simply. "I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Do you regret any of those choices?" he asked.

"No," she said instantly. "Never."

"You and Harry...it's like breathing," Charlie said. "Even though the git deceived all of us about what he felt for you. When I see you together now, it's so natural, I can't believe we ever believed his shite."

Ginny snorted.

"I can only assume it was your destiny—to be with him I mean. Just as it was his destiny to kill that bastard and it was your's and Ron's and Hermione's to help him do it. So maybe what you guys have now, you and Harry I mean, maybe this is just more destiny."

"Bugger I sound like a girl, don't I?"

Ginny snorted again but her eyes were suspiciously bright.

"I know some of what you're feeling," Charlie continued. "The last night I spent in this house before I left for Romania that first time, I decided I didn't want to go. Bill talked me back into it; he reminded me of all the reasons why I wanted to leave in the first place. And I've never regretted that decision."

He smiled at her. "So what's your reasons? Tell me so I can remind you."

"Harry," she said simply. "It's always been Harry. It's kind of funny; I spent the last four years telling myself that I was so wrapped up in him and his life that I didn't know who I was anymore. But now…I'm realizing that what I am is a part of him, just like he is a part of me. There's no running from that or changing it. We go together, we fit."

"Not even sure I _could_ be without him," she muttered to herself.

"What's that?" Charlie asked, leaning forward to catch what she was saying.

Ginny sighed again and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not sure we could separate now. We share magic," she said quietly. "Our magic seems to be permanently connected somehow. I'm not sure how it works, but his magic is always there, like a shadow in my mind."

Charlie was speechless. He'd never heard of such a thing. "What does that mean?" he finally asked, somewhat hoarsely.

Ginny smiled superiorly at him. "It means we can do things you've never even dreamed about big brother."

Charlie gulped at the feral look that had just appeared in Ginny's eyes. It was there for just a moment but the power behind it was a bit…nerve-racking.

"You're scary, you know that right?" he told her.

"When I want to be," Ginny agreed. "But I have a feeling I've untapped levels of scariness waiting to be discovered."

She bent down to pick up her discarded high heels, and putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder to steady herself, slipped them back on before walking towards the door.

"Great," Charlie grumbled, following her out the door and down the steps. "Just great. My only sister finally gets a serious boyfriend, or whatever you guys are calling yourselves, and it has to be the savior of the entire wizarding world—which means I can't even defend her honor without getting my arse whipped. And if that wasn't bad enough, even I could beat up her boyfriend, she herself is some sort of superwitch, which means none of us are going to get away with ANY sort of protective-brother speech."

"Damn straight," Ginny agreed cheerily. "You six had better leave my man alone. Or I'm going to show you how fire goddesses deal with over-protective gits."

Charlie gave her a playful shove sending her into the wall on the side of the steps. She retaliated quickly, digging her elbow into his side, causing him to yelp. They froze on the steps, ready to pounce on each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

With a sudden grin, Charlie dove for Ginny's legs and swung her up, throwing her headfirst over his shoulder, her legs kicking in the air and her fists beating on his back as she shrieked with laughter.

"You may be superwitch," he panted, carrying her down the steps, "but I can still throw you over my shoulder half-pint. Brute force will get you every time."

"I'll show you brute force, prat," she said, reaching down to pinch his arse. "Put me down!"

He carried her down to the kitchen before finally setting her on her feet at the foot of the stairs. "Man," he said, breathing heavily. "You've gained a bit of weight haven't you?"

Ginny punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder. "Watch it!"

"Brute force," she reminded him smugly, before turning around, preparing to flounce away.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm and swinging her around to face him. He looked at her, his face suddenly serious. "You okay now?"

"Yeah," she said softly, reaching up a hand to rub his cheek. "Thanks for talking to me."

"I love you half-pint," he said simply. "And I think Harry's a great man. I'm really happy for you."

She smiled shakily at him and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. "Thank you Charlie," she whispered. "That means a lot to me." She lifted her head and kissed him soundly on his whiskered cheek. "I love you too."

"Enough drama," he said, his voice sounding rough, even to his own ears. "Mum's probably waiting to give you that book."

Ginny moaned and followed him into the hallway.

"Out of curiosity Gin," Charlie began, "When _will_ you and Harry get married?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "When we get around to it. When he asks I guess. I still need a bit to get used to the idea."

"When you can just fit it into your busy schedule eh?" he asked dryly as they entered a noisy room full of Weasleys.

Ginny shrugged again. "No, I guess I'd like to do it right, when the time comes. Something small and simple."

"Yeah," Charlie said, his eyes sliding to his mother. "Good luck with that."

Harry's eyes followed Ginny's progress into the room she entered with Charlie. She'd left him nearly an hour ago, squeezing his arm and explaining she was going upstairs to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. He was pretty sure she hadn't—she'd been steadily moving things to Grimwauld Place for the past two days. One of the spare bedrooms was entirely full of boxes and trunks. Harry often found himself walking into the room and sighing with satisfaction as he took in the sight of HER things in THEIR house. He felt like a giddy schoolboy at the thought of seeing her toothbrush alongside his, next morning in the loo.

Feeling a bit ridiculous about his thoughts, he turned back to Ron who was in a heated discussion with George about the Chudley Cannons. Harry had enough of the Cannons, so he abandoned them to refill his glass with the pitcher of pumpkin juice he'd seen Molly take back into the kitchen.

After he convinced Molly he really didn't need anything else, he stepped back into the living room, his eyes immediately searching for Ginny. She was talking to Bill, her hands gesticulating wildly while Bill listened with an amused look on his face. He said something and she burst out in laughter, throwing her head back, the tips of her long red hair brushing the small of her back as she moved.

Harry's body tightened with the sound. He'd been apparating over to the Burrow every night since Saturday to sleep with Ginny but they hadn't made love since that first time in his…no _their_ house. All he wanted was to take his woman home, get her naked as quickly as possible and-

"Harry!"

Harry turned, startled out his reverie, to find Hermione grinning widely at him.

"Can't take your eyes off of her can you?" she asked, nodding towards Ginny.

"No," he sighed, turning back around. "I can't. I wonder how long one has to stay at a party celebrating you before one can bow out gracefully."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, I think you're safe," she said. "If you like, I can complain about tired I am—that ought to get the departure ball rolling."

"Would you?" Harry looked hopeful. "I'd owe you one."

"You already owe me plenty Potter," Hermione retorted.

"Well then just add this to the list," he said. "C'mon Hermione, I'm dying here."

Hermione glanced down at him knowingly. "I can…er…tell."

Harry flushed, causing Hermione to laugh. The sound brought Ron over to them. "What's so funny?" he asked, throwing an arm around his wife. "Don't make her laugh too hard Harry; she's liable to pop those babies right out with a bit of force."

Hermione slapped him in the stomach. He grunted but straightened back up quickly, grinning at her. "C'mon Hermione, you said yourself you felt like you were going to pop."

"That doesn't mean I need you to point it out," she said crossly. "You're supposed to be supportive. It's your fault I'm in this mess anyway."

"Wait a minute!" Ron exclaimed. "YOU were the one who forgot-" He was cut off when Ginny, who had made a beeline for the trio when she heard raised voices, placed a calming hand on their shoulders, effectively nipping the argument in the bud.

"Not here," she said. "Save it for home. No one wants to witness your weird mating rituals."

Ron and Hermione flushed and Harry roared with laughter. He reached out and tugging on Ginny's arm, pulled her towards him. Still chuckling, he wrapped an arm around her waist, settling her back against his front and letting her feel his erection by pressing it insistently into the curves of her bum.

Ginny stiffened but kept a smile frozen on her face. The hardness pressing into her back sent a wave of heat through her and the flames in the fireplace sparked. Tonks was standing near the fireplace and immediately looked over at Ginny.

Ginny met her friend's eyes and blushed. Tonks took a sip of her butterbeer to hide the grin on her face before turning to whisper something to Remus.

Hermione must have seen the fire too because she tugged on Ron's sleeve to get his attention. "Take me home Ron, I'm tired. The twins have been kicking all night."

Ron turned to her, immediately concerned but Ginny disentangled herself from Harry's grasp and reached forward to lay both hands on Hermione's stomach. Hermione sighed in relief as she felt the now familiar warmth spread over her. She wasn't sure how Ginny did it, but she could always calm the babies into sleep.

"They _have_ been active 'Mione," Ginny murmured, moving her hands over the swell of Hermione's belly. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Hermione shrugged. "They kick a lot. You can't stop them all the time. Just part of being pregnant I suppose."

"What else hurts?"

Hermione turned around, rubbing her lower back. Ginny massaged the spot and Hermione sighed with relief.

"You're supposed to be taking care of her Ron," Ginny glared at him. "You need to be massaging her back, rubbing her feet, that sort of thing. She's carrying your children after all."

"I do!" he protested. "All the time, whenever she asks me."

"She shouldn't have to ask for it you prat," Ginny admonished. She motioned for Hermione to turn back around and put her hands on her stomach again. She concentrated for a moment and then smiled at Hermione. "I think they're asleep now."

"Yeah," Hermione sighed. "Thanks Gin. I don't know if I would survive this without you."

"Nonsense," said Ginny crisply. "You're Hermione Granger, you can do anything." She leaned forward to kiss her friend on the cheek. "Now go home and get some rest. I'll floo you tomorrow. We're still meeting for lunch with Tonks aren't we?"

Hermione confirmed the date and the two of them moved off to say goodbye to Molly and Arthur.

Harry looked admiringly at Ginny. "How do you do that?" he asked.

"What, make lunch dates?"

"No, do that stuff with the babies. Touching her belly and all. That's amazing."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders and stepped closer to him. He reached out and snagged her waist with his left hand, pulling her even closer. His erection nestled nicely against the softness of her lower belly.

Ginny grinned evilly and wiggled her hips a little, chuckling when Harry groaned softly and tightened his grip on her waist.

"I don't know," she said. "I just…reach out for them. I don't know how to explain it. I've never been very good at explaining this empathy thing."

"Can you communicate with them?" asked Harry curiously.

Ginny titled her head in thought. "Sort of. It's like…making my presence felt. I sort of make them sense me and then I can sense if they're warm, comfortable—that sort of thing."

She laughed. "I can't imagine what it's going to be like when I have children. It's a stronger empathic bond between mother and child. They'll probably be talking whole sentences by the time I give birth."

Harry's eyes darkened at the thought of Ginny's body swollen with his child. He'd been so excited about finally being with her, he hadn't thought that far ahead. Now the idea seemed to take precedent over all other thoughts. He placed his right hand on her flat belly, and rubbed softly, thinking seriously about what a child created by the two of them would look like.

Finally, he looked up at her, his gaze smoldering. "I'll look forward to that," he said in a husky voice.

Ginny's breath caught at the look in his eyes. "Harry," she said, swallowing heavily. "I think I'm ready to go home now."

Harry just looked at her, his gaze darkening. The knickknacks on the tables and the mantelpiece gave a small rattle, startling him. He looked around the room somewhat sheepishly.

"Let's go say goodbye to your parents," he said, grasping her hand and dragging her across the room.

But it wasn't that simple. Everyone wanted to say goodbye. And Harry couldn't very well rush the moment Ginny took with her parents. Finally, thirty minutes after they announced they were leaving, Harry apparated himself and Ginny to the front stoop of Grimwauld Place.

"What are we doing out here?" asked Ginny in a surprised voice. "Why didn't you apparate us inside?"

Harry grinned at her and swept her off her feet into his arms. When she gave a surprised shriek he waved a hand at the door and it opened itself. Getting a tighter grip on her, he said, "I'd thought I'd carry you over the threshold."

Ginny's confused expression gave way to softness. "That's sweet a chroi," she murmured.

"One of these days you are going to explain to me what all the names you call me actually mean," he said exasperatedly as he carried her into the front hallway.

"A chroi means 'my heart,'" Ginny explained, as he set her down on her feet.

"Gaelic is sort of a dramatic language isn't it?" Harry commented, as he closed the door behind them.

"It's poetic," she corrected, walking away from him to hang her wrap up on a nearby coat hook. She turned back around and yelped when she saw he had moved up behind her. His face had that predatory look again.

"Now then Phoenix," he said softly, "I'm sure there are lots of unpacking things you could be doing tonight but there's plenty of time for that tomorrow. If you don't get in my…sorry, in _our_ bed in the next 10 seconds, I'm going to be forced to take you here in the hallway and I suspect the floor would be a bit hard on your back."

Fire raced through Ginny's veins, awakening every nerve ending as every bit of her reached out for him, waiting for him to touch her. Her breath quickened.

"Well then, Potter," she said, stepping closer to him, just brushing the tips of her breasts against his hard chest, "guess I don't have much of a choice do I?"

"No," he growled, his eyes swirling into a dark green. "I've been on edge all night. I don't know if you noticed."

"I might have noticed something," she murmured, stepping away and moving past him on her way to the stairs. She stopped at the foot of the steps and spun back around to face him. Her hands reached behind her and Harry halted his progress towards her when he heard the soft rasp of a zipper.

His mouth went dry when Ginny's dress fell to her feet in a soft swish of linen and perfume. She stood there in her high heels and emerald green lace bra and panty set. The underwear cut high up on her hips and Harry's brain immediately began cataloging all the places it wanted him to touch with his tongue.

Ginny smirked at the expression on Harry's face. He made her feel so powerful when he looked at her like that. She stepped daintily out of the dress and left it on the floor, turning around to slowly ascend the stairs on her way to his…no _their _bedroom.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was following but he was still standing at the end of the steps, staring avidly at her. She smirked at him again and he quickly shoved the dress aside with his foot and began sprinting up the steps towards her.

She shrieked and ran up the steps and down the hallway, slamming open the door into the bedroom, Harry right behind her. He caught up with her on the threshold and swept her up in his arms again, kicking the door closed behind him. He carried her over the bed and tossed her unceremoniously into the center of it. She laughed and rolled over on her back.

His eyes were fixed on her body, his hands making quick work of his clothing. He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark green pools of light.

"Do you know what you have been doing to me all night?" he asked her in a low voice as he ripped his belt through the loops in his pants.

"Yes," she panted. "I could feel it, even though we weren't connected. Could you feel me?"

"Oh yes," he said, shoving his pants and boxers down over his hips. Ginny inhaled sharply when his erection sprang free.

"That…that looks painful," she swallowed.

Harry seemed to deflate a little bit. "Is…is it going to hurt you again?" he asked anxiously. "Bugger Gin, you should have told me, I can-"

"Harry," Ginny interrupted. "I'm fine. I meant painful for you."

"Oh," Harry laughed. "Well, yeah, I suppose it has been." He looked sheepishly at her. "I know I'm just a randy git but, damn Nix, I'm only human and you…you're a goddess."

Ginny got to her knees and crawled over the bed to kneel in front of him. The height of the bed meant she was almost as tall as he was. She reached her hands for his shoulders to steady herself and he grasped her waist, holding her to him.

"Harry Potter," she said firmly. "You are not a randy git. Okay, well maybe you're randy but that's just fine because I'm as randy as you are. Gods Harry, what you do to me when you walk in the room; when you look at me with those eyes. And the way you touch me," she shuddered and looked him in the eye. "It's not just you—I want you just as badly."

She blushed and bit her lip. "I…I get wet just thinking about you," she finished in a low voice, as if she was embarrassed to be saying such things. She was pleased when Harry inhaled sharply at her words and she was encouraged to continue. She took his hands and placed them on her bra-covered breasts.

"Feel how tight my nipples are?" she whispered.

Harry nodded, unable to speak.

"They're tight because of you. I'm wet because of you. And I have orgasms because of you. I'm yours, whenever and wherever you want me. So take me and know that I want you just as badly as you want me."

Harry fastened his mouth to hers with a moan, his hands squeezing the flesh she had directed him to. She kissed him back fiercely, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

With an oath, he tore himself from her mouth and stepped back from her. "Take them off," he said hoarsely, indicating her bra and panty set. "I want to watch you."

She smiled at him and stood up on the bed, using one of the bedposts to balance herself on the bed. She kicked off her heels, sending them to the floor and reached behind to unfasten her bra. The bra straps slid down her arms and she slipped her hands underneath the cups, covering her breasts from his view. Harry groaned when the rest of the bra slipped off her chest and she kicked it to the floor, still cupping her own breasts.

Now grinning at him, she took one hand and slid it over her ribs and down her flat stomach to dip inside her underwear. She cupped herself and Harry's mouth fell open as she squeezed herself inside the underwear, hiding the specifics of her action from his view. His gaze snapped back up to other hand that had begun caressing her own breast, pinching and teasing the nipple.

Harry's knees buckled when Ginny took the hand still on her breast and slid it down to join her other hand. She used both hands to rub her mound, her fingers peeking out from the crotch between her legs.

"Take it off," he tried to command her through gritted teeth but it wasn't very effective because she just chuckled at him and took her hands out to finger the straps of the panties over her hips.

Harry was panting with the effort to control himself. He had never been so turned on his in whole life. So it was only a mild relief when Ginny finally acquiesced to his demands and shimmied the underwear over her hips and down her legs before letting it drop with a final flourish to the floor.

Harry's gaze started at her feet, those delicate ankles, slid up her muscled calves to the nest of red curls between her milky thighs; over the curve of her hips, the dip in her waist, and the high breasts with the rose red tips. His perusal ended at her face, finally meeting her eyes, which were filled with lust…for _him_.

"In case I haven't said it before," he choked out. "You are so bloody gorgeous."

Ginny knelt back on the bed. "Come here," she said softly, holding out her arms to him.

He moved as if in a trance, wrapping his arms her and pulling her tight against him, her breasts squashed against his chest. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, one hand sliding up to fist in her hair, the other beginning a slow and thorough exploration of her spine.

She whimpered when he deepened the kiss and he slowly nudged her back so he could climb on the bed with her. They knelt in the center of the bed together, mouths fused and hands caressing any part they could reach.

Ginny slid her hands down to smooth over Harry's bum. She had never touched his naked butt before and she lost herself in the sensation of squeezing and massaging it with her small hands. She'd never dreamed bottoms could be so muscular.

Harry broke the kiss and smiled in amusement at her. "Should I leave you and my arse alone?" he asked.

Ginny blushed. "Sorry," she said, giving his cheeks one last squeeze. "I missed it the first time around."

Harry laughed. "Phoenix, you can spend as much time as you like getting acquainted."

His head dipped down to begin sucking on her neck and Ginny slid her hands up and down his back, tracing the muscles she discovered there. She reveled in the feel of his body underneath her hands and sudden tears sprang to her eyes when she realized she was in this bed, about to make love to Harry bloody Potter, the man of her dreams…and he loved her back.

Eventually Harry coaxed her onto her back and beginning with her throat, kissed his way down her body, stopping once to nip at the sides of her breasts and once more to swirl his tongue in her belly button. Ginny arched when he reached the place between her thighs and slid a finger inside her, groaning when he felt how wet she was.

"Ginny," he said, looking up at her from where he knelt between her thighs. "Can I taste you?"

"Are…are you sure you want to?" Ginny asked doubtfully.

"Yes," Harry said, leaning down to nuzzle her curls with his nose. "More than anything."

"Oh…okay," she stuttered. "I'm yours a chroi, whatever you want."

Harry's face darkened. "That's right," he said firmly. "You're mine."

He bent her legs and spread her knees open, making room for him between them. "Wider Ginny," he murmured, his eyes fastened on her, "give me everything."

Ginny grasped her knees and spread her thighs wider apart, exposing herself to his view. She gasped when the cold air hit the heated part of her but Harry quickly placed his hot mouth on her. Her body bucked and she cried out, her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow when his tongue parted her lips and swept up the length of her, stopping to swirl around the bundle of nerves he later took between his teeth and gently nibbled.

Ginny arched off the bed, only her head and hips touching the mattress as Harry lapped at her. He alternated between sucking and licking her, working her body into frenzy. When he plunged his tongue inside her, she came with a hoarse cry, the heat spreading throughout her. The fireplace immediately sprang into life, the flames licking up the chimney.

Ginny came back down panting heavily, willing her heart to stop pounding. Her eyes were swirling orbs of gold. Her body felt like it was on fire and electricity sparked wherever Harry touched her.

"Harry," she gasped, "Come up here." She propped herself up on her elbows to find him still bent between her thighs, a feral look on his face.

He shook his head. "No," he ground out. "Want more."

"What?" Ginny half-shouted. "Harry please, I need you."

He settled more firmly between her thighs, his hands sliding underneath her to lift her up to his waiting mouth.

"_Again_ Ginny," he demanded. "Again."

Ginny flopped back on the pillows with a grunt. "Harry," she breathed, "I can't possibly again…not so soon-"

Her words were lost in a gasp as Harry fastened his mouth onto her again. As if he knew she would be overly sensitive to the touch, he feathered his tongue over her in little laps, coaxing her into submission. When she began bucking against him, meeting the thrusts of his tongue, he sucked her nub hard, and she came again, sobbing his name as he held her suspended in air at his mercy.

The fire in the grate was out of control now, the flame straining to reach towards Ginny. Without thinking, Harry lifted a hand and shot a stream of water at it, effectively putting the fire out with a sizzle.

Placing one last kiss on her nest of curls, Harry growled, "Mine" and crawled up her body to take a shaking Ginny into his arms. Perhaps he could have given her more time between to recover but the taste of her and the feel of her exploding under his mouth had been so intoxicating he couldn't help himself. He wrapped his arms around her and shut his eyes, burying his face in her hair, inhaling the inherent smell of Ginny.

Ginny's head fell back and she looked up at Harry, her eyes hooded in desire. "I need you inside a ghra," she whispered. She reached a hand down between their bodies and stroked the length of him.

Harry was harder than he had ever been and the urge to bury himself inside of her was overwhelming. He had wanted to give her more time to recover but when she closed her small hand over him, his magic surged and reached for her. She answered with a welcoming cry and the fire that was Ginny raced into him, setting his skin on fire.

Flames burst over them, tickling his skin and their auras swirled together, a mesmerizing color of green and red. "Sorry about the flames," she murmured. "I can't stop it."

"S'alright," he gasped. "It feels wonderful. You feel wonderful."

He moved over her, one knee coming down between her legs and she opened automatically for him, wrapping her legs around his hips. Looking into her eyes, he drove into her with a cry of relief and he held himself suspended above her, prolonging the anticipation of sliding in and out of her wet heat.

Ginny's body lurched with the influx of heated energy when he began moving inside of her and she grabbed for him, desperate to crawl inside his skin and cuddle against the energy inside of him. She lifted her hips, trying to bring him deeper inside her, closer to her heart, inside her soul. It's where he needed to be, she knew it. For both of their sakes.

The intensity of the emotion building inside of her continued to grow until she felt it would burst through her skin and consume them both. It was heat, it was fire, it was energy; it was everything she was and everything he was and it was fusing into one.

The orgasm came with such unexpected force that she grabbed his shoulders, hanging on in a futile attempt to keep her body from coming apart. She was vaguely aware of herself chanting in Gaelic and of Harry shouting her name, his arms like steel pipes as he kept himself from crushing her with his own explosion. She felt his energy shoot through her body, curl around her belly, wrap itself around her lungs, and squeeze her heart until she was nothing but him.

Harry felt awareness beginning to penetrate the layers of fog inside of his brain. His entire being had been so wrapped up with Ginny that he had to slowly return to himself. He lifted his head from Ginny's shoulder to find himself slumped on top of her. Ginny's legs and arms that she had wrapped around him had lost their grip and she was lying limp, spread-eagled beneath him. Her eyes were shut and her breath was coming out in short pants.

"Ginny?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from shouting. He had no idea how long they had lain there, recovering from the intensity of their lovemaking.

"Are you all right?"

Ginny stirred and Harry pushed himself up on his arms, staring down at her anxiously. He was afraid he'd hurt her. She drew her limbs in and opened her eyes to look at him. Harry was surprised to see her pupils were still swirling pools of gold. Her magic was still moving inside of her, he could feel it through the connection.

Ginny tried to lift shaky arms to hug him back to her but she felt boneless and all of her energy was being used by her magic which continued to pour into the connection between them. She tried to speak to him but her words came out in confused Gaelic. She tried to tell him she was fine, that she just needed a few more minutes to recover but too late, she realized he didn't speak Gaelic.

Harry was starting to get concerned. Ginny continued to speak Gaelic and he didn't have any idea what she was saying. He could feel that her magic was sapping all her energy and forced himself to calm down in order to send energy into her. She reached for him, strength returning to her limbs and said something in Gaelic, her words more urgent. She needed something from him but he couldn't tell what.

"In English baby, please, I can't understand you," he said in a pleading voice. "Show me what you need. Did I hurt you?"

She took his arms and wrapped them around her, slumping back onto the mattress as if the effort had exhausted her. An image flashed in Harry's mind of his body wrapped around Ginny, like an animal protecting its cubs. Ginny looked straight at him, her red hair spread over the pillows like fire and said something softly in Gaelic, repeating the same phrase over and again.

Harry decided to go with his instincts and withdrawing from her body, rolled off her, and lay on his side. He gathered her to him and held her as tight as he could; her head and torso snuggled against his chest. He drew her knees up until she was a tiny ball and curled his much larger self around her, sheltering her warmth with his body.

Ginny sighed with relief. She'd been trying to tell him to hold her; that she needed to be as close to him as possible. That only he could calm the raging firestorm inside of her. She settled into the shelter of his body happily. He always made her feel so safe. She wasn't sure what was going on with her magic right now but she sensed it wanted to be close to him.

Harry put his mouth down to Ginny's ear and whispered softly to her. She mumbled replies in Gaelic that he couldn't understand but he continued to whisper words of love to her. He felt their magic wrapping around each other and their green and red auras combined into the golden aura they had seen the other day. It blanketed their bodies.

Harry waved a hand and the bed coverings floated down over them, trapping the warmth of Ginny underneath them. Turning off the light with another wave of his hand, he tucked the arm back around Ginny and they fell asleep, the golden light swirling languidly over their bodies.

Ginny woke in the same position Harry had put her in before they fell asleep. Harry's arms and legs were wrapped around her holding her to him with a gentleness that brought tears to her eyes.

She pulled a hand out from where it had lain trapped between their chests and ran her fingers lightly over Harry's cheek. She traced his jaw line and fingered the faded scar on his forehead.

Had anyone ever loved anyone as much as she loved this man?

She had fought beside this man, fought for him and fought with him for the right to do so. She had killed for him and considering the nature of her new job, probably would do so again. He had taught her, taken her under his wing and shown her how to defend herself and then, when she had proved she was ready, had shown her how to defend others. He was her friend, her confidant, her teacher and now he was her lover.

He was everything.

The idea no longer scared her. Earlier, when they had been making love, she had felt their connection in the deepest part of her soul. When she had closed her eyes, she saw the threads that connected them: her magic and his magic—so completely intertwined she couldn't tell which was hers and which was his. She had poured as much as she could into him in that final moment, when he took over the edge. All that had been left was the fire goddess part of her that could not be separated. It must have scared him, all that fire swirling inside of her without the natural control she usually had. And the Gaelic; Ginny couldn't help smiling at the memory of the panicked tone in his voice. Perhaps she would teach him a few words. Just so he would understand whether she was cursing him or loving him.

Ginny carefully lifted her head to check the time. It was still early. Slowly, very slowly so as to not wake him, she straightened her legs and loosened the cage he had created with his arms and legs. Rolling over to her other side, she nestled back against him, smiling when he let her get settled and then tightened his grip again, pulling her tighter.

She sighed happily and drifted off back to sleep.

Harry woke slowly and was unreasonably happy to find Ginny snuggled against him. It was like every dream he had ever had. They made love and then woke up together. Unfortunately, the dream had always ended when he had really woken up and found his bed empty and Ginny still living in Paris.

But this morning, she was here, she was warm and, most wonderful of all, she would be there the next morning and the next and the next…

Harry shifted and freed a hand. He trailed his hand down her arm and traced the side of her breast before moving to cup her breast. His palm chafed her nipple and he felt himself harden when he felt the nipple tighten under his thumb. He smiled smugly to himself when she arched into his hand and let out a soft moan.

Running his hand down her side, he skimmed the top of her thigh and gently grasped her knee. He lifted her leg and pulled it back, placing it over his hip.

Ginny shifted in her sleep and arched her bum against him. Harry groaned softly in her ear as his shaft slid along the cleft of her bottom and nudged the center of her curls.

Ginny let out a small whimper and pressed back against him. Harry had a sneaking suspicion she was waking up. He spread his fingers wide and slid his hand over her hip and down to the warm heat between her thighs, parting her lips to find her already wet.

His index finger teased her bundle of nerves and Ginny gasped.

"Harry?" she breathed, twisting her head to look sleepily at him.

"Ssshh," he whispered, kissing her nose. He reached down between their bodies and grasped the base of his erection, positioning it at her entrance.

"I need you," Harry whispered in her ear. "Take me in."

He slid into her slowly, savoring the way her body parted for him and gripped his shaft.

"A gh**rá**," she whispered, "**grá mo chroí." **

**Her eyes slid shut and her head pressed back on his shoulder. Harry buried his face in her neck and moved his hips easily and slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. He was enjoying the angle of penetration from this new position. Ginny apparently enjoyed it too because she whimpered and took the hand he was gripping her hip with and moved it to her breast.**

**Harry took the hint and massaged her breast, his fingers toying with her nipple. He slid his other arm underneath her and encircled her waist, pulling her tight against him. His hand opened wide and pressed on her lower belly, holding her still for his thrusts.**

**"Faster," she moaned, trying to buck her hips against him but he held her firm, setting the pace for both of them.**

**Harry quickened his thrusts, the magic between them swelling. His groin tightened and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. Releasing her breast, he slid his fingers into her wetness and brushed a finger over her nub, once, twice, until she cried out. **

**"Harry, please!"**

** "Come with me," he whispered in her ear, and began rubbing her in time with his thrusts. He felt her shudder and knew she was close. Ginny reached back and fisted a hand in his hair, holding his head to her neck. **

**Wrapping the arm she was laying on tighter around her slender waist, he gripped her exposed hip and slammed into her. Two more thrusts and, rubbing her furiously, he heard her cry out and felt her sheath grip him with her climax. He let himself go, exploding into her, unable to keep from chanting her name.**

**They rested, panting, their bodies glistening with sweat. **

**"That was brilliant," Ginny finally managed. "Gods, it just gets better and better doesn't it?"**

**Harry chuckled, his face still buried in her hair. "At this rate, we'll both die from heart attacks by the time we're fifty."**

**  
"That'd be a good way to go," she commented. **

**Harry eased out of her and she rolled over to face him, tucking her hands underneath her cheek on the pillow.**

**"Are you going to wake me up like that every morning?"**

**Harry flopped onto his back. "Might."**

**Ginny scooted over to lay her head on his chest. Harry automatically reached up a hand to stroke her hair.**

**"What are we going to do today?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.**

**Harry shrugged. "Nothing. I had planned to spend the whole day in bed with you, preferably naked. Thought we might get something to eat or shower, eventually."**

**"In fact," he said, gently pushing her off his chest so he could sit up. "I told Dobby to put breakfast outside our door." **

**As if on cue, Ginny's stomach rumbled and Harry laughed. **

**"Weasley's are so predictable," he commented as he strode naked over to the bedroom door. He opened it to find a massive breakfast tray piled high with food. Rolling his eyes at Dobby's enthusiasm, Harry levitated the tray over to the bed and set it gently down on the mattress. **

**Ginny waved a hand, placing a stablizing charm on the tray and sat up, tucking the sheet underneath her arms before reached for the steaming pot of tea. She moaned with satisfaction with her first sip. **

**"Thank the goddess for house elves. I needed that. I'm ravenous."**

**"Good sex burns up a lot of energy," said Harry cheekily, spreading jam on his toast.**

**"Apparently," she said dryly.**

**They ate in silence for a few moments. Harry studied her carefully over his plate of eggs and sausages. She seemed to have recovered from whatever it was that had gripped her the night before.**

**"What was that last night Phoenix?" he finally asked, setting down his fork. "You scared me. I thought I had hurt you."**

**Ginny chewed her last bite of toast with a thoughtful expression. "I don't think it was you," she said, after she had swallowed and taken another sip of tea. She explained to him the conclusions she had reached upon waking earlier that morning.**

**"Let me get this straight," Harry said slowly. "The connection between us was sucking the magic out of you?"**

**Ginny shook her head. "No it's not that simple. I don't think it's possible for it to suck the magic out of me. I just mean that I was so, um…occupied that I couldn't stop myself from pouring too much into the connection."**

**Harry frowned. "I didn't know that was possible."**

**Ginny took another sip of tea. "Well now we know. Might be useful someday—if I can send my power to you that way."**

**Harry was still frowning. "I don't like the idea of you being without protection."**

**"I've still got the fire goddess," Ginny said, casually reaching for another sausage. "I can't give her to you."**

**Harry titled his head at her, pausing with a bite of egg on his fork halfway to his mouth. "So the fire goddess is like a separate entity inside of you?"**

**Ginny nodded. "Sort of. We are the same but we also coexist. I imagine that if I were to get really mad, that side of me would take over. She's the warrior inside of me after all. The rest is just plain Ginny. I was born with both, it just took awhile for the fire to rear her head. Although it explains a lot of things about my temper."**

**"Not plain Ginny," Harry corrected. "Never plain."**

**Ginny smiled at him. "Thanks." **

**Harry wiped his mouth and leaned back against the pillows, sighing with satisfaction. "Are you done?" he asked. When Ginny nodded, he waved his hand, banishing the tray back to the kitchen. **

**Ginny snuggled back into the covers, stretching her arms over her head like a cat. "I'm sleepy again. Someone wore me out last night."**

**Harry grinned.**

**"Wipe that smug look off your face," said Ginny, poking his side. "You're not in competition with all the other men in the world you know. It's not a 'who can bring the most pleasure to their woman' game."**

**"That's what you think," Harry muttered. **

**"The worst part is," he said, folding his arms behind his head, "that I can't brag to anyone about my sexual prowess in the bedroom."**

**Ginny's nose crinkled. "Men brag to each other? Like details? Like private details?"  
**

**"Of course," Harry said, somewhat mournfully. "And who am I going to brag to? Certainly not your brothers. They'll most likely kill me. Maybe Neville and Seamus would like to go get a pint sometime this week."**

**Ginny gasped with indignation but Harry ignored her.**

**"You should hear your brothers. Of course, I was never a participant, not having any stories of my own, but I was a willing listener."**

**"Gross," Ginny said. "Harry, perhaps it's time I explained to you this standing rule I have about no sex talk about my brothers."**

"Ron said he actually made Hermione meow like a cat once," Harry recalled, ignoring her.  


**"Harry…" Ginny threatened.**

**"And Charlie has some insane stories about these two women dragon handlers. I'm not even sure they're true but they're great conversation."**

**"I mean it Harry, shut up right now or-"**

**"And the twins. Well…you don't even want to know some of the things they claim."**

**"No, I don't want to know and I'm about five seconds from-"**

**"But the best is Bill," Harry said, seemingly completely oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend was about to hurl a fireball at him. "Apparently being married to a veela can be a bit exhausting. One time we were at the pub and Bill looked a little peaky so we asked him about it. He said Fleur had kept him up all night with this new-"**

**His words were cut off when Ginny pounced on him, knocking the breath out of him. He wrestled for the dominant position half-heartedly but he was laughing so hard, he couldn't really get a good grip.**

"You're kind of squirrely," he said, panting when Ginny finally sat up triumphantly on top of him, her hands pining his arms to the bed on either side of his head. 

**She grinned. "Now Potter, perhaps I didn't make myself clear earlier when I told you about this rule I have." **

**"Sorry," Harry said, "didn't quite catch it." He titled an ear up towards her.**

Ginny leaned down and whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his neck. He shivered. "No sex talk about the brothers," she said, puncutating each word with a nip on the tendons in his neck. She wiggled her lower half on a rapidly expanding area of him. "It's a big turn off."

**"Wouldn't want that," Harry said huskily.**

**Ginny chuckled softly and continued her slow torture of him, moving her mouth down his throat, nibbling at his collarbone and latching onto his nipples until he groaned. She kept his arms pinned to the mattress with a bit of magic and Harry strained to touch her.**

**"Uh, uh," she cautioned in a singsong voice. "It's my turn." **

**She slid down his body, her fiery hair trailing over his stomach and hips and took his now full-blown erection into her mouth. Harry fought to control himself. He could get out of the restraints if he really wanted to but she seemed to be enjoying the dominance and far be it from him to deny her anything. Especially when she was doing things to him with her mouth he had only been able to imagine before.**

**"You're a quick study in that," he gasped out.**

**Ginny lifted her mouth from him and noted the strain on his face. Deciding he'd had enough punishment, she crawled back up over his body and straddled him, positioning herself over his erection. **

**"I'm ready to learn something new," she said, her now-golden eyes boring into him.**

**"Yes," he panted, lifting his hips up to brush against her. "Gods yes. Need to be inside you."**

**Ginny slowly lowered herself onto his waiting body, gasping as he filled her. "It feels different this way," she said, moving her hips experimentally and bracing herself with her hands on his chest.**

**"Ginny," Harry groaned, arching his neck. "You're killing me."**

**The next several minutes were the longest and most pleasurable minutes of Harry's life so far. Ginny set a slow pace, her face filled with wonder and she lifted her body up and down his shaft and found just the bright position. He could tell she'd located it when her eyes rolled back in her head and she threw her head back in ecstasy, her hips moving faster. **

**It was the sweetest torture ever. His lifted his hips as much as possible to move with her but she controlled the pace and he didn't want to ruin her fun. **

**Finally he could take no more. "Release my arms Ginny," he ground out. "Please, I need to touch you."**

**Ginny waved her hand and Harry's arms came unglued from the mattress. His hands immediately found her hips and he lifted her slightly, slamming into her from underneath.**

"So…good," she managed, pistoning her pelvis faster. She began chanting in Gaelic and the words wove a spell over Harry, caressing his skin. Before he knew it, she was screaming with the force of her climax. He felt her muscles clench him and he came with a roar, shooting into her with a force he hadn't realize he still had left in him. 

**Ginny collasped boneless on top of him, the ripples still moving through her and Harry hugged her to him. He kissed her sweaty temple and she lifted her head to look blearily at him.**

**"Could that get any better?" she asked breathlessly. **

**"Maybe," he laughed softly. "We didn't share magic that time."**

**Ginny huffed and lifted her pelvis slightly, allowing him to fall away and straightened out on top him. **

**"I'm just going to lay here for awhile okay?"**

**"Lay there as long as you want Nix," he said softly, pulling the covers back over them. "I've got you."**

**"I know," she mumbled. "You always have."**

**The rest of the day passed pretty much in the same manner. They woke again about noon and found the lunch tray Dobby had left outside the room. They ate in bed again, discussing the upcoming meeting they both had with their boss, whom Ginny had still not met. **

**Ginny was determined to get up at one point and she made it as far as tugging on a pair of jeans. But Harry's body swelled again at the sight of Ginny shimmying her pants up over her naked arse and he leapt out of bed to pull her back into the covers. He threw her in the center of the bed and pulled her jeans off with one giant tug before covering her body with his own.**

"Harry," she whined, squirming underneath him. "I've got to start unpacking. Tomorrow is-"

**Harry cut her off by nudging her legs open and sliding into her. "There's no tomorrow," he whispered, rocking his hips gently. "Just today. Only today. And today you're all mine."**

**"Yes," Ginny gasped, her hips meeting his slow thrusts. "I'm always yours."**

**Their magic merged and they were lost in each other, the golden aura bursting forth as Harry chanted "Mine" over and over in her ear. Ginny let the declaration seep into her soul until once again, she was nothing but him. **

**Much later, after a long shower during which Ginny had lovingly washed Harry's hair and he had dried her off enthusiastically with a large towel, they sat in front of the fire in the cozy armchair, Ginny was curled up like a cat on his lap underneath a blanket from the bed.**

**"You're joking!" she was saying in disbelief.**

**Harry squirmed underneath her, the memory of the particular sexual fantasy involving her in her Hogwart's uniform causing its usual havoc.**

**Ginny's eyes widened. "You aren't joking!" She threw her head back and laughed.**

"Harry," she sputtered, "what is so sexy about the Hogwart's uniform?"

"It's not the uniform necessarily," he explained patiently, "it's the way you looked in it. So schoolgirlish and proper—makes a bloke want to corrupt you. Mind you though, that skirt can be pretty sexy."

**"That ugly gray pleated thing?" Ginny wrinkled her brow at him. "What's sexy about that?"**

**"Easy access," he answered promptly and Ginny collapsed in giggles again. "But Harry, really, in a broom closet? That's just so…normal. Everyone does it in broom closets."**

**"Not us," he said grumpily. "And that was the point—it was normal."**

**"Oh," Ginny said, quieting down. "I guess I can see that."**

**Harry tightened his grip on her. "What was your biggest fantasy about me then?"**

**Ginny's face took on a thoughtful expression. "There were several," she admitted. "But the best one involved your invisibility cloak and the common room. There was something really sexy about the thought of other people not knowing we were there or what we were doing."**

**Her face took on an evil grin. "That reminds me, I'll have to send Romilda Vane a note telling her about my change of address."**

**Harry groaned. "Please don't," he said. "She writes for _Witch Weekly_ now; no telling what shite she'd print in retaliation." **

**Former-Gryffindor Romilda Vane was one of Harry's more terrifying fans. She'd terrorized him his seventh year by sticking disguised love potions under his nose every time he turned around. Ginny and Hermione had finally put an end to things by going to Professor McGonagall who had swiftly punished the surly witch.**

**It didn't put a stop to her near-stalker behavior though. Harry had breathed easier except that Romilda had developed an intense hatred of Ginny when she realized how close the two were. Instead of being disturbed, Ginny had just relished the fight. She saved retaliations for defense class when she made sure to be paired up with Romilda at every possible occasion. She'd sent the witch to the hospital wing more than once and Harry and Ron had kept a little tally sheet they entitled "Ginny vs. Romilda." **

**Harry smiled now, thinking of a few of the more interesting ways Ginny had made Romilda pay for her unhealthy obsession with Harry.**

**"What are you laughing at?" she nudged him in the ribs.**

**"Just thinking of that time Romilda stormed back into the common room with the words 'Ginny Weasley is my best friend' tattooed all over her body."**

**Ginny smirked. "It was rather brilliant of me," she agreed. "Fred and George sent me flowers when they heard about it remember?"**

Harry chuckled. "They created a joke for it too. 'Terrifying Tattoos.' I slipped one to Ron once and it tattooed little black spiders all over him. It was hysterical."

**"They should pay me royalties," Ginny grumped. "Half the stuff in that shop was my idea."**

**"Your brothers are pretty brilliant in their own right," he said. "You should have seen what they did to me when they found out you were moving in here-"**

**Harry shut his mouth with an audible snap. Shite, he hadn't meant to tell her that. They'd taken an oath…**

**Ginny lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes glittering dangerously. "Harry Potter," she said in a deadly voice. "Did my brothers do something to you when they found out about our new living situation?"**

**Harry swallowed nervously. "Ginny," he managed. "We just had a little talk is all, it wasn't a big deal."**

**"Harry," she warned. "It's best you tell me the truth, I'll find out anyway."**

**"I can't," he said stubbornly. "We made a pact."**

**"A pact?" she asked shrilly. "What sort of pact?"**

**"I can't tell you that either," he insisted. "Let's just say we reached an understanding."**

"What did you have to agree to do?" she asked sharply.

**"I just had to swear to take care of you and love you forever," he said. "But I planned on doing that anyway."**

**Ginny's eyes narrowed. "There's more to it than that," she said.**

**"Yes there was but I'm not going to tell you," he said firmly. "They're your brothers and they love you and they've a right to make sure I'm not an arse. You did the same when they introduced their girlfriends to you."**

**"I was more subtle about it," Ginny growled. "And my way doesn't involve testosterone-charged dueling."**

**"Neither did this," he assured her. "They know better."**

**"Why the oath then?"**

**Harry smiled at her. "They're scared to death of you. It was part of the agreement—that I wouldn't tell."**

**"And that," he said, cutting her off, "I can't tell you so let's just drop it please?"**

**"Fine," she huffed, settling back into his embrace. "But just because I don't know the details doesn't mean I'm not going to get them back."**

**"Yeah," he said, resting his head on top of hers. "I figured that."**

**Harry was balls-deep in Ginny, pounding away with enthusiasm, her cries urging him on when the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Harry groaned but Ginny tightened her legs around him. **

**"Finish," she panted. "Dobby'll get the door."**

**Harry reared back, taking her legs from around his waist and placing them over his shoulders. He plunged back into her wetness, the deepness of the penetration causing them both to moan. A few more thrusts and Ginny's back arched, flames erupting around her as she cried out, the orgasm washing over Harry through their magical connection. Harry gave his own shout and spilled into her, her body milking him for all he was worth. **

**He slumped on top of her, her legs falling off his shoulders and wrapping around his torso as she hugged him to her.**

**"Who the hell could that be?" she asked finally, her heart slowing down. "It's 9 o'clock at night."**

**"I don't know," he said angrily. He rolled off her and got out of bed. "But it can't be anybody good. I put a 'do not disturb' spell on the front door. It should have repelled them."**

**Ginny sat up, her hair mussed from their lovemaking. Harry's face softened. Her eyes were bright, the golden rim in them shrinking back to its normal size. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her body a glowing pink from the warmth of the bed.**

**"You stay up here baby," he said kindly. "I'll go see who it is and send them away." He walked over to the bureau and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants. **

**  
"I want to come with you," she said, throwing back the covers and grabbing his robe from floor. She pulled the robe on, and rolled back the long sleeves.**

**"That's a _short_ robe on me," said Harry, amused at the way it swallowed her petite figure. He pulled on a white t-shirt, grinning when he heard her snort of indignation.**

**"I'm just the right size for you Potter," she said saucily, giving him a hip check as she moved past him to open the door. **

**Dobby was standing right outside the door, his tiny fist poised to knock. His eyes opened wide, startled when Ginny opened the door.**

**"Who is it Dobby?" Harry hissed, trying to tame his hair with his fingers. **

**"It's Mr. Bintliff," the elf replied in a low squeaky voice. "He said it's urgent. I told him you was not to be disturbed but he insisted. Said he wasn't leaving until he spoke with you and Miss Ginny." **

**"Who is Mr. Bintliff?" Ginny asked Harry.**

**  
"Rodderick Bintliff," Harry said through gritted teeth. "He's your new boss, love. Guess you're going to meet him sooner than you thought."**

**He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the hallway. "C'mon. He's usually not this intrusive. It must be important." **

**She followed him down the stairs and into the front parlor where Dobby had made him wait in a subtle disapproval of Mr. Bintliff's intrustion.**

**When they entered the room a short, wiry man turned from the fireplace to greet them. **

**"Harry," he said simply, shaking his offered hand. "I'm sorry to disturb you both but it couldn't wait."**

**Harry ignored the apology and introduced the man to Ginny. **

**"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Weasley," Mr. Bintliff said, bowing over her hand. "I must apologize for the late hour."**

"It's all right," said Ginny, studying him curiously. He had dark brown hair that was graying at the temples and olive skin with bright blue eyes that seemed to peer straight through her. He bowed again, acknowledging her forgiveness.

**"I've heard great things about you within er…certain parts of the ministry," he said graciously. He had a surprisingly deep voice for someone so small and it had slight accent Ginny could not place.**

**Ginny smiled cautiously at him. "Um, thank you?" She wondered how he would have even heard of her.**

**"Certain things cannot be kept a secret Miss Weasley," he said, as if he had read her mind. "In particular, your work with that dragon in France was discussed among a few of us behind closed doors."**

**Harry turned surprised eyes towards her. "You never told me about that."**

**"It was nothing," Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively. **

**"It was amazing," Bintliff corrected. "I wish I'd been there to see it myself. But I probably would have been obliviated along with most of the witnesses."**

**"What did you do?" Harry asked curiously. **

**"Nothing," she insisted. "I just coaxed it back into its' pen is all. I was visiting the dragon reserve in the country with some friends of mine."**

**"You _coaxed _a dragon back into it's pen?" Harry asked slowly. He was trying to picture what that must have looked like. "How on earth did you do that?"**

**"With fire of course," Bintliff answered, a ghost of a smile flitting across his face. "The head dragon handler said she'd never seen anything like it. It was a Hungarian Horntail you know, and it was really angry about being kept locked up."**

**He nodded at Ginny. "Everyone else was trying to get away but she just walked up to it and shot some fire at it, herding it back to the area. The handler said the dragon actually seemed to respect her afterwards."**

**"Dragons respect fire," Ginny said, blushing. "It wasn't that big of a deal."**

**"Really?" Bintliff asked midly, his eyebrows raised. "He let you pet him afterwards. No one else has been able to pet him. I checked."**

**Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You seem to know a lot about me Mr. Bintliff."**

**Bintliff smiled at her fully now, exposing even, small white teeth. "Call me Rodderick. And yes, I know a lot about you."**

**He leaned down and took a file from from the briefcase Ginny now noticed sitting at his feet. He handed it to her and she took it, her eyes sliding towards Harry. He was stone-faced, his expression hard.**

**She opened it and leafed through it slowly. "This is all about me," she said, confused. "Copies of my transcripts from Hogwart's, reports about the Chamber of Secrets…information about my years in France…"**

She was quiet for a moment, noting the level of information contained in the file. It listed everything from her favorite foods to the names of friends she had hung out with at the University in Paris. Finally, she snapped it shut and looked up to find Harry staring at Bintliff with a thunderous expression on his face.

**"No files Rodderick," he growled. "You know the rules."**

**"Yes, I do," Rodderick replied midly. He took the file back from Ginny and tossed it into the fire. "I thought you might like to see me destroy it." He watched the papers burn a few moments before turning back around to face Ginny.**

**"I'm sorry m'dear," he said genially. "But we keep files on several people. Once I agreed to hire you, I had to erase quite a bit of information that had leaked out about you over the years." **

**He nodded towards the fire. **

**"That was the last of it."**

**"Are you positive?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.**

**Rodderick nodded stiffly. "My word Harry," he said.**

**It was apparently enough for Harry because he visibly relaxed and gave her a reassuring smile. Ginny supposed he trusted this man but she wasn't so sure yet.**

**"All right," she said, crossing her arms back across her chest. "You've proved you know a lot about me. Why?"**

**The small man, whose face reminded her more and more of a hawk, titled his head at her. "Ah…well that's a bit tricky…but oh well, you asked." **

**He clasped his hands behind her back and faced her fully. "When a small girl is possessed by a magical diary purported to have belonged to Voldemort and fights said possession for a whole school year only to be finally rescued by the boy-who-lived, under somewhat terrifying circumstances, the Ministry tends to stand up and take notice I'm afraid."**

**Ginny stiffened. "Point made," she said sharply. "That doesn't explain why you continued to add to the file after the war was over."**

**Bintliff shook his head at her. "Ah my dear, I've had my eye on you for a long time. Things only got really interesting after the war—although your exploits during it were enough to attract my attention. Once I saw you were going to continue your schooling, delaying your entry into a career, I made it a point to gather the information about you into one place. I couldn't chance other departments, or other people, getting too interested in you. I wasn't above performing a few memory charms either."**

**"I'm in the business of secrets Miss Weasley," he continued. "And I wanted your level of talent and er…power to remain one. If certain people got together and started reviewing certain actions you and Harry were involved in…well, they might put two and two together. I couldn't allow that to happen."**

**"Why not?" Ginny asked, curious in spite of herself. She ignored Harry who seemed to be sparking with suppressed energy. **

**"Because I'm the only one with a decent agenda," he explained simply. "Others would use you and exploit you." He smiled at her.**

**"I just want to use you."**

**"Use me for what…Rodderick?"**

**"To protect the magical world Ginny. I want you and Harry to protect the wizarding world." **

**He paused. **

**"Again."**


	14. Chapter 14 The Task

_A/N: Thanks for being patient, hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy!_

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny couldn't help herself.

She laughed.

She laughed so hard; she sat down in a nearby armchair, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of Harry's robe.

"Protect the wizarding world?" She finally managed to ask. "Why don't you just ask us to bring down the bloody moon while we're at it."

"Ginny-" Harry began.

"Harry," Ginny said, holding up a hand to stop him. "Someone needs to tell this idealistic bint that two people cannot protect the wizarding world."

She shook her head back and forth. "We couldn't do it four years ago and we can't do it now. Not all by ourselves."

Bintliff cleared his throat. "I never meant to suggest you do it by yourselves. I just meant to say there are forces at work in our world Ginny. Forces that are evil and that seem to be organizing-

"No kidding," Ginny said sharply. She stood up again. "There is always going to be evil. You can't stop it, the ministry can't stop it and neither can we. Just because Voldemort is dead doesn't mean the ideas he lived for have died along with him."

She stepped closer to him, deciding it was time she took control of this conversation. He was nearly her height and she was able to look him right in the eyes.

"I've had evil inside of me," she said softly, the flames in her eyes flaring. "It lived inside of me, fed off of me, controlled me…do you know what that feels like Mr. Bintliff? Ever been possessed by a dark lord? No? Well it isn't pleasant. And let me tell you, the first lesson you learn is that evil things don't take vacations."

She stepped back and glanced at Harry before looking back to her new boss. "You can't expect Harry and me to be the only thing standing between evil and the wizarding world. That's not what I signed up for. We deserve to live normal lives too."

Bintliff didn't seem disturbed or even surprised by her reaction. He simply stood, watching her with a certain wariness in his eyes. Ginny supposed he might have found the fire in her eyes to be a bit disconcerting but she was past caring at this point.

He cleared his throat again. "Forgive me for not being clear. I should have said from the beginning that I don't expect you to do it alone. But there does seem to be an increasingly organized force that is disturbing."

Ginny crossed her arms and waited for him to continue.

He reached down into his briefcase again, pulled out two identical folders and handed one each to Harry and Ginny.

Ginny opened her folder to find a picture of a middle-aged man, tall with salt and pepper hair smiling sardonically into the camera. He wasn't a bad looking bloke, she decided. Rather dashing actually. But the look in his eyes…Ginny shivered. They were cold and blank

"Who is he?" Harry asked, leafing through his own folder. "I recognize him."

"His name is Sidney Tuelsburg," Bintliff said, "and he's suspected of being involved in a number of questionable activities. The muggle authorities have tried to arrest him several times in connection with various illegal activities but they were never able to hold him for very long and he was always released with official apologies."

Harry snapped his fingers. "I remember now, he was that guy in the Ministry of Defense who was involved in that weapons scandal. They thought he would be fired but at the last minute, the prime minister held a press conference and took up for him. I met him once in Amsterdam on the Blue Chip mission."

Harry gave his own shiver. "He was perfectly pleasant but he didn't strike me as a nice man."

"He doesn't look like a nice man," Ginny agreed.

"Indeed, he is not a nice man," Bintliff said. "Of particular concern is the way that people connected to him seem to…disappear."

Ginny motioned for Bintliff to sit down, and sat next to Harry on the sofa, smiling inwardly when he placed a warm hand on her lower back and absentmindedly rubbed her through the material of his robe.

"So what's the story on this guy?" Ginny asked. "And what does he have to do with 'forces of the world threatening to destroy us'? And why did you come here this late at night to tell us about him?"

"I admire your candor Ginny," Bintliff smiled at her. It seemed to Ginny to be the first genuine smile she'd seen from the man.

"Sidney Tuelsburg is a muggle," Bintliff began. "Yet there are no real records of his life prior to his appearance in local muggle politics beginning in the fall of 1989. There are birth records of course, and school certificates—those sorts of thing—but experts at the Ministry of Magic have determined these records were falsified."

"Why would the ministry be interested in checking out the background of a muggle?" Harry asked.

"Tuelsburg came to our attention three years ago when he was involved in that scandal you mentioned Harry. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and your father's department," Bintliff said, nodding towards Ginny, "make it a point to keep abreast of muggle issues—particularly those effecting the prime minister's government. The prime minister of course, is the only muggle government official who is informed about the magical world and the office has been known, from time to time, to cooperate with our own Minister."

Bintliff leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, the Minister of Magic and the Prime Minister had a meeting the day before the Prime Minister's press conference regarding the future of Tuelsburg on his staff. He explained to our own minister that he would be announcing Tuelsburg's resignation. It was too much of a scandal, he said, and he didn't want anything to taint his reelection campaign. He even showed the Minister of Magic a copy of the speech he planned on giving."

"So when the muggle minister got up the next day and announced his full support of Tuelsburg, it was very surprising. We decided to do our own investigation and found the information you see there in the files."

"What exactly does this guy do for the muggles?" Ginny asked.

"He is a high official of their Department of Defense," Bintliff said quietly. "So he has a lot of power at his disposal."

Harry stopped staring at the photograph and looked up at his boss. "So you think Tuelsburg changed the Prime Minister's mind somehow?"

Bintliff didn't answer Harry question directly. "We've been keeping an eye on Tuelsburg, as I mentioned. He's done a lot of traveling the past three years and everywhere he goes, people die. They're unexplained deaths."

He reached out for the folder Harry had laid on the coffee table and rummaged through it, pulling out a newspaper clipping. It was a report of a muggle man who had been killed in his home in Turkey two years ago.

"This man worked for Tuelsburg very briefly," Bintliff said, shaking the clipping. "I'm not sure as to the exact nature of his job but he was listed on Tuelsburg's payroll. Two weeks after he left Tuelsburg's employment, he was found dead in his home of no apparent causes."

He took out some reading glasses and perched them on his nose. Reading aloud from the newspaper article he said: "Witness reported seeing a flash of green light and authorities described the victim's face as being 'frozen in terror.'"

Harry stiffened and Ginny froze.

"That sounds…that sounds like 'Avarda Kedavra,'" Harry said in a low voice.

Bintliff nodded and pointed to the folder. "There are lots of other clippings in there describing very similar deaths spread out over Europe. Some of the victims lead directly to Tuelsburg and others have very obscure connections. Some have no connections at all. But they all have the same thing in common: they're all dead."

Ginny swallowed, trying to suppress memories of green lights flashing around her in battle. "How could a muggle use the killing curse?"

Bintliff shook his head. "I'm not saying he is using it. But it is curious. And it's not just the killing curse. Read the file, there are possible reports of the imperious curse, memory charms and even the cruciatus curse. Someone is using magical means to harm muggles."

Harry took a deep breath and leaned back against the sofa, his hand sliding over Ginny's body to grip her hip. "Okay, but this still doesn't explain what you're doing here. You could have told us all this tomorrow."

"And you still haven't explained what you want us to do," Ginny added.

"It's very simple. Someone or something is using magic to harm muggles. I want you to find out who it is and why they're doing it. And then I want you to stop it. Start with Tuelsburg; I've got a hunch that he is a threat to us. He is the only connection between a lot of these unexplained incidents and I suspect you'll find more connections when you start digging. I want you to find out what Tuelsburg is up to and whatever it is, I want him stopped."

"How do you know he's a threat to wizards?" Ginny insisted. "You've not given us any proof of that. There's no proof he even knows about wizards."

Bintliff smiled at her again but there was no humor in his eyes. For an answer, he pulled out another folder and slid it across the coffee table with one finger.

Harry looked at him curiously and sat up to look over Ginny's shoulder as she opened the file.

They both inhaled sharply. It was a picture of a much younger Sidney Tuelsburg posing with a pretty blond-haired woman underneath a tree.

The people in the photograph were moving and laughing.

"What is he doing in a wizarding photo?" Harry asked sharply.

"That's what we want you to find out," Bintliff said. "It's not unusual for muggles to meet magical people but this photo was found in a rather obscure place and no one seems to be able to identify the girl in the photo."

"What obscure place?" asked Ginny curiously.

"In his private vacation home in the Swiss Alps," Bintliff responded honestly. "Aurors broke in two days ago and discovered the photograph in a safe behind a painting. It was the only thing in the safe. They left the original—this is a copy."

Harry tossed the picture back into the file and closed the folder. He was starting to get irritated. Twenty minutes ago he'd been making love to Ginny. Now he was sitting here listening to someone tell him that muggles were dying and it might be a wizard's fault.

It was all starting to sound eerily familiar.

"This still doesn't explain the urgency of your visit."

"Yes, I was just getting to that." He reached into the right pocket of his robes and pulled out a thin, square box. He opened the box and gingerly lifted out a shiny metallic circle.

"Do you have a device the muggles call a DVD player?"

Five minutes later, Harry, Ginny and Roderick were gathered on the couch in the T.V. room Harry had installed in Grimmauld Place's when he remodeled the house. (He figured Mrs. Black really would have been upset to find muggle devices in her house) Harry pointed the remote at the television and it clicked on to show a fuzzy black and white picture.

"What are we looking at here?" asked Harry, squinting at the screen.

The scene was a dark room with what looked like pedestals and glass cases scattered throughout the floor. Ginny thought it looked like a museum and said so.

"Excellent Ginny," Roderick said. "You are looking at a recording of the room in the British Museum. The Mesopotamian exhibit to be precise. Muggles install what they call video cameras at these exhibits as security measures. The camera records what is happening in the room and feeds the images to another room where a guard can keep a close eye on everything that is going on. This particular recording happened very early this morning, about 2 a.m., and I think you're just about to see…ah, yes, there he is."

Bintliff said back with satisfied sigh and Ginny turned her doubtful gaze back to the image on the screen. Seconds ticked by but just as she was about to speak up and ask what the bloody hell was going on, one of the glass cases on the pedestals began to move.

The glass case floated off the pedestal and through the air, setting itself gently on the ground.

"There!" Bintliff said suddenly. He grabbed the remote out of Harry's hand and rewound the playback before pausing it. He sprang up and approached the large T.V., finger outstretched to point at a smudge on floor of the museum, next to the pedestal. "Do you see it?"

"It…it looks like a shoe?" Harry suggested, the question obvious in his voice.

Bintliff nodded. "Yes, that's what we thought as well."

Ginny decided not to ask who "we" were and squinted at the screen. "I guess it does look sort of like a shoe," she said. "But it could also be a hundred other things."

Bintliff stepped back and pushed the play button again. "Now watch," he instructed.

Nothing happened for several moments and then a bright light flashed, enveloped whatever was on the pedestal and quickly disappeared.

"That looked like a spell," Harry said slowly.

Ginny nodded. "Yes, and perhaps an invisibility cloak explains the shoe?" Harry nodded in agreement and they both watched as the glass case floated back into its place.

Bintliff shut off the screen. "Nothing interesting happens after that. I suspect whatever damage was done was completed with the apparent spell and our culprit immediately left the premises."

Ginny had a million questions. "What is on that pedestal?" she demanded. "And how did the Ministry get a muggle recording of a muggle museum?"

Roderick handed the remote back to Harry and sat down in a chair across from them. He folded his hands primly in his lap and looked over at them.

"The Ministry has kept an eye on that particular object for years. We made it a point to have someone stationed in the museum at all times, until," he swept a hand towards the technology in Harry's television room, "the muggles made it easy for us."

Ginny opened her mouth but he silenced her with a look. "The object in question was found on an archaeological dig three hundred years ago. A muggle named Robert Hooks was on an expedition to an area in what is now southeastern Turkey. Originally, the land was part of ancient Mesopotamia. His only discovery was a cave that had been buried by sand. The cave was protected by many enchantments, curses and so forth…luckily he had a wizard in his group—muggles weren't so opposed to the idea of magic back then—and the wizard was able to break through the wards."

He reached back into his briefcase for what Ginny sincerely hoped was the last time this evening, and pulled out _another_ folder. Ginny felt like cursing him.

Harry snorted. He could feel the irritation in Ginny and when Roderick had reached into his bag and pulled out yet another folder, he had felt her magic spike in anger.

"Really Roderick," he said in exasperation. "Is all this really necessary? Just tell us what was on the bloody pedestal!"

Roderick paused in the act of sliding the folder across the table towards Harry and Ginny. "Very well," he said curtly, sliding the folder back towards him. He opened it and took out a photograph.

"This," he said, throwing the photograph on the table, "is what was inside the cave. It's a talisman of some sort, with markings that no one has ever been able to decipher. The finest wizards in the world have attempted to translate it. We have no idea what the talisman does or why it was so heavily protected. We only know that it dates back to about the 4th millennium B.C. when the first literate cultures developed in what scholars have called 'the cradle of society' or Mesopotamia."

Ginny picked up the photograph and examined it. "It doesn't look like anything special."

And it didn't. The talisman was a small round piece of dark stone and other than the strange symbols carved on it, there were no other markings to indicate what it was. A small hole had been drilled in the top.

"This looks like it might have been worn as a necklace," she murmured absentmindedly. She handed the picture back to Bintliff but he waved it off, indicating she could keep it.

"Why is it under lock and key and guarded by the ministry?" Harry asked. He leaned back against the cushions and crossed one leg over his knee. Ginny tried not to notice the patch of skin he had exposed at his ankle or the way it made her feel to know she had touched every inch of him They'd had sex, what, four times today? What was wrong with her?

As if he sensed the images flashing through her mind, Harry quickly uncrossed his leg and folded his hands in his lap. Ginny shook herself and tried to focus on what Bintliff was saying.

"…when he touched it, he was able to perform magic," the small man was saying.

"Sorry," Ginny interrupted. "Can you say that again? Who was able to perform magic?"

"The muggle, Robert Hooks," Bintliff said, impatiently. "He was the first to pick up the talisman and then he passed out. When he woke up three days later, he could perform small spells and gradually improved until he could do some minor hexes and curses."

Ginny scoffed. "That's crazy. He must have already been able to do those things."

"Maybe," Bintliff said, cocking his head at her. "But he credited the talisman with giving him magical power and regardless, his account of the story and the wizard who witnessed the whole thing caused great concern among the magical community. Of course, wizards weren't as closely connected as they are now, but Hooks was British and he told the story to several wizards in England."

"The object was placed in the Department of Mysteries and forgotten about for over two hundred years until a diary of Hooks was published and the story was told again. There is no record of any proof that Hooks was telling the truth because he died shortly after returning to England."

He reached back down into his briefcase and Harry stifled a laugh at the curse Ginny muttered under her breath. Bintliff pulled out a tiny book that grew into a much larger tome when he tapped it with his wand.

"This is all the information the Ministry has gathered on Hooks, the wizard, and the talisman. It was compiled a hundred years ago, after rumors of the talisman and its properties began to resurface. The minister of magic at that time decided that even though the talisman seemed to be harmless, they couldn't risk another muggle touching it."

"So they put it in a muggle museum?" Harry asked incredulously. "How does that protect it from the muggles?"

"It wasn't originally put in a muggle museum," Roderick corrected. "Originally it was placed at Hogwart's for safe keeping. But someone stole it." He ignored Harry's protests at the idea anyone could steal something from Hogwarts and continued.

"Hogwarts wasn't as protected back then," he said, shaking his head. "And they never found it until it resurfaced all on its own 50 years ago when it was anonymously donated to the British Museum. It was put on display and has been ever since. The ministry has kept a close watch on it but they've never had any trouble with it. Until last night, or rather, this morning."

"Wait a minute, what does this have to do with that Tuelsburg bloke?" asked Ginny shrewdly.

Bintliff smiled at her. "You asked that at exactly the right moment," he said, delighted. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped together.

"Sidney Tuelsburg has disappeared. And more importantly, he was attending a charity function at the museum last night. According to witnesses, he didn't leave the dinner until 2:30 a.m., thirty minutes after the museum recorded what you just saw on the television."

"How do you know he has disappeared?" Harry asked sharply. "It's been less than a day."

"Good question," Roderick commented. "Aurors went by his penthouse this afternoon, after an auror stationed at the museum noticed what happened on the recording. The man's flat has been cleaned out. Clothes, papers, everything is gone. He didn't show up for work this morning and he missed an important meeting with the Prime Minister this afternoon."

Ginny slapped her hand on the table in front of her in frustration. "This doesn't make any sense. You aren't telling us everything. Why is the Ministry so interested in Sidney Tuelsburg? So he's in a wizarding photograph? Big deal. So people die around him? That doesn't explain why, when something mysterious happens, the Ministry goes looking for him."

"You really are quite good at getting to the heart of the matter," Bintliff mused.

"Tuelsburg was caught by a security camera in the vicinity of the Mesopotamia exhibit. One minute he was there, the next he just…disappeared."

"A thief wouldn't be that stupid," Harry declared. "He had to have known the cameras were filming."

"Ah, but you see, someone who wanted to avoid the cameras would in fact be able to do so. But in his haste to escape them, he forgot about a mirror across the hall from him. His reflection can be seen quite clearly, before it disappeared."

"Fine," Ginny said wearily. She sank into the sofa cushions. "What do you want us to do about this?"

"I want you to steal the talisman," Bintliff said, now very serious. "The Ministry wants it back and we don't care how we get it."

He stood up and picked up his briefcase. "The museum is not going to give it up," he explained. "So you'll have to steal it. We can't ask any of our muggle connections for this. If the talisman is real and if it does what Hooks claimed, we can't risk the muggles finding out."

He walked to the door, followed by Harry and Ginny. "After you get it back and you're sure you've got it in a safe location, you'll need to figure out what the spell did. And then I'm going to need you to go after Tuelsburg. Find out what he wants with the talisman and why. I need to know his agenda."

Harry nodded. "Do we have full discretion on this?"

Bintliff nodded reluctantly. "I never know what I'm agreeing to when it's you who asks me that question Harry," he said, "but yes, any means necessary."

"Only," he paused, his hand on the doorknob, "try not to cause an international incident this time."

"What international incident?" Ginny asked. She turned to Harry and narrowed her eyes, "What did you do?"

"It wasn't my fault," Harry said defensively. "I got the job done didn't I?"

Ginny turned back to Bintliff and shook her head ruefully. "Harry's never been very subtle Mr. Bintliff. It's his biggest fault."

Bintliff laughed and walked back to her, sticking his hand out for her to shake. "I wouldn't have introduced myself or you to this job in this way if I'd had a choice," he said softly. "When Harry mentioned you were looking for a job I knew I had to have you on my team. I hope, in time, you'll come to trust me. I keep secrets and I protect the people who work for me."

He dropped her hand and stepped away. "As usual Harry, I expect discretion in this. We'll meet when get back. You can notify me in the usual way."

"Roderick," Harry said sharply. "Ginny's not trained for this, no matter how talented she is. This had better not be too dangerous."

"Oh I think she'll be up to the task," said Roderick with a knowing smile on his face. "Ask her about some of the things she studied in Paris."

Ginny blushed and Roderick's face showed the beginnings of a smirk before allowing Harry to show him to the door.

Harry came back into the room and just looked at her with raised eyebrows. He would wait.

"Oh all right," Ginny said, throwing her hands up in the air. "I took some advanced defense courses. I thought they would be fun, you know. And…and I did pretty well in them."

"What sort of defense courses?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Stealth and tracking," Ginny mumbled.

"And?" asked Harry shrewdly.

"Disguise and interrogation."

"And how did you do in those courses? What were your grades?"

"Top marks," she said, not looking him in the eye.

"Ginny-" Harry warned.

"Fine," she huffed. "The French ministry offered me a job after graduation all right? My professors recommended me for the Magique Stratagème department."

Harry stiffened. "That is the most exclusive and secretive Auror department in Europe. You have to be really good to even get an interview. Why didn't you mention this before?"

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't want the job; I didn't even think about telling you—it didn't seem important."

"You turned them down?" Harry asked skeptically. Logically he knew she must have done so but still…one did not just turn down the Magique Stratagème department. They were shrouded in secrecy and they came looking for you—not the other way around.

"Well of course I did," Ginny said exasperatedly. "I'm standing here aren't I?"

"I know," Harry conceded. "Still…damn Ginny." A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "I've met some of those guys, they must have been upset with you."

Ginny snorted. "They were a bunch of snobs. Why would anyone want to work with them? They acted like I would be so lucky to join their little group. I sat through a meeting—figured I owed them that much—but at the end, when I told them I wasn't interested, they just stared at me."

Her face darkened. "And then they tried to threaten me."

"They threatened you?" Harry asked sharply.

"Oh they tried," she confirmed. "But I convinced them it wouldn't be the wisest course of action. My fire goddess powers were still new you see, and a bit…unstable."

She grinned at him. "They all got new hairdos."

Harry laughed. "Damn, I love you."

Ginny smiled and walked forward to slide her arms around his waist. He bent his neck and kissed her on the forehead.

"So why did you turn them down?" He asked.

Ginny frowned. "They're really secretive. It would have meant giving up my life, my family, my friends, and becoming this whole other person. They want you to sever ties with the people who know you so you can adopt another identity. It takes years of preparation."

Harry nodded and hugged her to him. They stood quietly for a few moments. Ginny was enjoying the closeness of him and thinking over what Bintliff had told them. It had all happened so fast…

"Are you sure you're ready for this Nix?" asked Harry finally.

Ginny lifted her head to look him in the eyes.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Its just…well…talking about the way those people died—it brought back nasty memories of green lights."

"Me too," Harry said in a low voice.

"I'm not sure I can handle another Dark Lord," said Ginny, expressing her greatest fear.

Harry smiled reassuringly. "I don't think he is a Dark Lord. He's just a muggle. And even if he was—at least this one isn't after us personally."

"Not yet," Ginny frowned. "But only because he doesn't know about us yet."

Harry stepped back. "Hey, if you're having second thoughts then we'll just call Bintliff back here right now and tell him we're not doing this. We'll both quit and find something else to do. It doesn't have to be us," he insisted.

"Doesn't it Harry?" Ginny inquired, tilting her head at him.

"No," he said firmly. "We've paid our dues. Both of us; Ron and Hermione too. Someone else can handle the next dark lord. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life looking around every corner for the next Voldemort."

"Yes," Ginny agreed. "We did pay our dues. But Harry, could you really sit back and let another Voldemort rise to power?"

"We're not sure that's what is happening here. And I don't think that will happen," he said honestly. "This guy may be bad news but he's not Voldemort. We're probably being a bit paranoid."

"I mean it Ginny," he said, starting to feel a bit desperate. Bad memories were rising to the surface and for one brief moment he wanted to take Ginny away and forget he'd ever met Roderick Bintliff. "It doesn't have to be us. Someone else can do this."

Ginny nodded again before stepping away from him. She untied his robe and let it fall to the floor, leaving her naked in the middle of the room. She stretched an arm out in front of her and held her hand out, palm up.

Harry watched mesmerized as she called up her power—the liquid gold light of it spread over her like a second skin until she was glowing. An unseen breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders, electricity sparking through the strands. Her pupils were swirling orbs of gold and if he sensed hard enough, he could feel the flames inside of her stretching as if awakening after a long nap.

Power flowed down her arm and formed a swirling ball of fire she held in her hand. The ball grew until it was as big as her head. She played with the ball, shrinking it and expanding it, tossing it back and forth between her hands, letting it slide over her fingers and down her arm. She even levitated it over to hover in front of Harry who stared at it, entranced by the flames and electricity he saw sparking in its core.

"And this then Harry," she said, bouncing the ball casually on the floor. "What is this for? If it's not meant to be used?"

She spun around and hurled the ball towards the fire in the fireplace. The two fires connected in an explosion of raging firestorm and Harry jumped back, startled.

Ginny just held out her hand and the fire was sucked back into her body as if a sudden vortex had appeared. She turned back to face him, her body shining even brighter.

"Why am I so bloody powerful then?" she demanded. "If I'm not meant to do something with it?"

She stepped closer to him, the fire still raging in her eyes and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to the heat radiating from her body.

"Why are _you_ so powerful Harry?" she asked softly. "We can both do things no one else has ever heard of—at least not for hundreds of years. That can't just be a coincidence. It can't just be an accident that we met and fell in love. I know you don't want to be the savior of this world Harry—I don't either. But there has to be something good we are supposed to be doing."

"But we've already done it Gin," he pleaded. "I don't want go through that again."

She shook her head at him. "We won't," she said simply. "We're older, wiser and in more control of our own destinies. We can still have our own lives. But we're not finished Harry, I can feel it inside of me and I can feel it inside of you. There is still more to be done. Otherwise you wouldn't have agreed to become a spy for the ministry in the first place."

She put a hand on his face. "You know this," she said gently. "There may not be a Professor Dumbledore to explain it this time or a prophecy to predict it but you KNOW it. This is who we are. All we can do is our best. And sitting by, letting the ministry handle something like this—that's not our best."

"I don't want it to consume us," said Harry, brokenly. "I don't want our lives to become about fighting again."

"It won't," she stressed. "We won't let it. And it's different this time. Can't you feel it? Voldemort's evil had bled into everything—the people, the earth, the air—it's gone now. And if we do our jobs, maybe it won't get that bad again."

"Our lives are not just going to be about this job," she promised. "Let's make a vow right now. We aren't going to let Bintliff talk us into doing anything we don't feel is the right job or the right timing. He's got other people, let him use them."

Harry grinned slowly and hugged her tighter to him. He marveled at the heat caressing her skin as he ran his hands up and down her bare back.

"So we'll still have our lives and take lots of vacations and you'll be pregnant a lot?"

Ginny smiled, ignoring the lurch in her heart. "Eventually I'll marry you and we'll move to Potter Glen and raise a quidditch team."

"Ginny," Harry said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "That is all I've ever wanted. A normal life with you."

"I know a ghrá," said Ginny softly. "But we'll do this first. I think we'll know when it's time to quit."

Harry kissed her hard in agreement. "I'm sorry I freaked out," he said quietly. "It's just…you know, bad memories."

"Yeah, I know," she said. "Me too."

--------------------------------------------

A lone security guard sat in a tiny, windowless office in the basement of the British Museum. With the advent of technology, the British Museum had reluctantly wired its many buildings for security cameras several years ago. It was an evil necessity that curators had bemoaned when the first power drills cut into the century-old stone.

Their reluctance to disturb their precious building was probably why they had stuck the security guard office in the basement, and, as current security guard Ian Smith decided during the sixth hour of his eight-hour shift, why they made their guards wear these uncomfortable uniforms.

Ian hooked a finger in his collar and tugged. It was a nervous habit he'd developed since beginning this job six months ago and already his girlfriend was nagging him about it. He couldn't help the way the collar choked him though and had recently taken a disturbing aversion to anything that fastened around the neck.

Ian sighed and checked the clock on the wall. Two more hours to go. Two more hours of sitting in this room with its boring walls and this hard chair and staring at screen after screen of black and white images of exhibits he had already stared at a thousand times.

He took a sip of cold coffee and stood up, chucking the plastic cup neatly into the rubbish bin across the room. He lifted his arms in silent show of victory as the sound of a thousand cheers echoed in his mind. He was just pumping his fist in triumph, imagining the invisible crowd chanting his name when a red buzzer flashed on the nearby console.

Now sighing in defeat, Ian grabbed his nightstick from the desk and banished the imaginary world championship he had just won to the back of his mind. It was time for rounds.

He was just lingering in his favorite Egyptian exhibit when he heard something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle from the hallway. He stepped cautiously on the marble floor and poked his head around the doorjamb.

Nothing was there. He swept his eyes up and down the hallway, seeking out any shadows where someone might be hiding but the hallway was well lit and he could not see anyone. He froze, listening for another sound but the only noise was the water fountain as the cooler kicked on.

He decided to continue the rounds and left the fascinating Egypt exhibit with its golden coffins and mysterious statues for the exhibit on Mesopotamia. Ian didn't really care for this exhibit. It was boring and very little information was actually contained in the room. It was mostly bits of broken pottery, a couple of pieces of cloth, some ancient tools and a weird piece of jewelry that looked like it might have once belonged on a necklace. He wondered, not for the first time, why the museum even bothered with it.

The room looked particularly boring this evening, the dull yellow lights shining down on the pieces and the…wait a minute…that didn't look right? One of the lights was out.

In six months at this job, Ian had put in several work orders to replace light bulbs at various exhibits. It was almost a nightly occurrence in fact. But he had never, ever had to tell maintenance to replace a bulb in the Mesopotamia exhibit.

Curious, he took the flashlight from the clip at his belt and walked over to the darkened area. He couldn't say why but he had an uneasy feeling. Almost as if he was being watched…

He shone the light over the area where the light had burnt out and noticed with a start that one of the glass cases was cracked. Maybe the light had exploded and a bit of the bulb had hit the side of the case? Wait, no, that was stupid, these glass cases were a special type of glass.

He focused the light on the cracked case and stepped closer…shite…the glass wasn't just cracked, it had a fist-sized hole in it and the item inside was missing. He did a quick mental inventory of the items in the room; everything was there except for that odd piece of stone the sign said was jewelry.

Ian fumbled for his walkie-talkie to call Thomas, the other security guard who patrolled the grounds outside and ran to the doorway of the room. There was a keypad by the door and he quickly punched in a number from memory. A red light started flashing and a high-pitched alarm sounded.

Ian stepped back as heavy steel doors sprang out of the wall on either side and clanged together in the middle, effectively securing the only way into the exhibit. The alarm would immediately notify the police who would call the curator and the endless questions would begin.

He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, more from anxiety than the exercise. He ran a hand over his face. A theft at the museum on his watch…but he hadn't seen anything, he'd done the rounds like clockwork, kept an eye on the security cameras, nothing had been out of the ordinary. Except, well, there was that giggle he'd heard earlier in the hallway but….bugger, they were going to have his job for this.

Resigning himself to looking for a new job in the morning, Ian went to greet the police at the entrance to the museum. His night had just gotten longer.

----------------------------------------------------

Harry and Ginny appeared back in their bedroom at Grimmauld Place just moments after a security guard had nearly caught them in the hallway of the British Museum. After stealing the talisman, they'd had to be outside the exhibit before apparating out because of the protective wards the Ministry of Magic had placed around the Mesopotamia exhibit.

Harry pulled his hood back from his face to glare at Ginny. "You nearly got us caught!" he said sharply. "Am I going to have to put a silencing charm on you every time?"

Ginny shoved her own hood off to glare right back at him, her long red hair falling back down to her waist in tumultuous waves.

"Me?" she nearly shrieked at him. "You were the one who stuck an elbow in my side. You KNOW that tickles me! I couldn't help it. You know how ticklish I am!"

"I tripped," Harry defended himself hotly. "And you were the one who ran into me."

"Not likely," Ginny said grumpily. She sat down on the edge of the bed and began untying the laces to her boots. "I'm not the one with mammoth-sized feet."

She kicked the boots off and stood back up, unzipping her black jumpsuit as she did so. "Do you still have the talisman at least, you clumsy oaf?"

"At least I can keep myself from GIGGLING on a mission!" Harry said, sitting down on the other edge of the bed to untie his own boots. "What kind of spy gets caught because they were laughing?!"

"The kind that's extremely ticklish!" Ginny retorted, staring angrily at the back of his head. Truthfully, she was a bit embarrassed. She hadn't meant to laugh; it had just welled up inside of her and come out before she could stop it. It was her first mission and she had been nervous and when Harry's elbow had hit that particular spot, she had lost control.

But she wasn't about to tell _him_ that.

Harry stood up and faced her. She was angry but not at him, more at herself for nearly bungling the job. He could feel the emotions inside of her if he concentrated. He smiled; this sensing her emotions thing was really going to come in handy sometimes.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the talisman, wrapped in a soft cloth. He laid cautiously it on the bed and waved his wand over it, canceling the protection spells Ginny had insisted they take time to place on it before attempting to transport it. She had probably been right, he decided, because now that he could examine it closely, it did look a bit fragile.

They had debated for what seemed like hours over whether to leave a copy behind. Ginny had argued, quite effectively, that it was best the muggles didn't know it was missing. Harry, on the other hand, thought they were forgetting how useful the muggles could be.

"Once they find out this is gone, it'll be all over the news," he had insisted. "It's to our advantage if the muggles go looking for it. We're only two people and we can't be everywhere. If Tuelsburg made a copy of it, he might be seen with it and it could give up his location."

"If he really does know about magic, he'll know we're looking for him," she had warned. "He's not stupid."

Harry had agreed but hadn't seen another way around it; he didn't think they could just ignore the muggle resources.

So Ginny had reluctantly agreed and they had spent the rest of the day figuring out how to get in and out of the museum. It was relatively easy for a wizard to sneak in and out of the museum but they also needed to avoid security cameras and that had taken a bit of work.

Which brought them to this moment, standing on either side of the bed, staring at what looked like a useless piece of stone.

"Can you sense anything about it?" Ginny finally asked.

Harry was quiet for a moment, his arms folded across his chest, one hand supporting his chin as he studied the object.

"Not really," he finally said. "I mean, there's an obvious enchantment about it but there are so many layers. It's going to take a while to get through them."

"Can you do it though?" she asked, shrugging off the top of the jumpsuit until she stood half-naked in only a sports bra.

Harry's eyes snapped from Ginny's chest back to the talisman. "Maybe," he shrugged. "But it's going to take some time. And I'm going to need to be some place where I can't be interrupted."

Ginny nodded and shimmied the rest of her tight jumpsuit off her hips and down her legs. "Right then. You work on that and I'll work on the carvings."

She walked over to Harry's side of the bed and bent over, studying the markings on the talisman.

"They look like runes," she guessed. "But no runes I've ever seen before."

She straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. "Damn, what I would give to let Hermione look at this."

Harry couldn't help himself and snaked an arm around Ginny's waist, pulling her against his side.

"Well you can't," he reminded her, kissing the top of her head. "It could put her in danger. Especially if Tuelsburg is after the same information."

Ginny nodded again. "Yes, but we still need a way to get into the Department of Mysteries. The talisman was held there for years and there's bound to be some information on it."

Harry shook his head. "You saw that gigantic book Bintliff gave us. He said it contained every scrap of information the Ministry had."

Ginny lifted her chin stubbornly. "I still think we should look for ourselves. There might be some more information about these markings anyway."

Harry sighed. "You're right."

"'Course I'm right," Ginny said. "I'll think of some excuse for Hermione. Even if she suspects something, which I'm sure she will, she'll help me."

"Just be careful," he cautioned. "We'll discuss your story before you go, yeah? Make sure it sounds good."

Ginny fought her inclination to stiffen. He was right. They were partners and they made decisions together. She had to stop wanting to do everything alone in some misguided attempt to prove herself.

As if he sensed her struggle, Harry loosened his grip on her waist and let his hand slide slowly up and down her spine. His fingers traveled down over the curve of her bum and fingered the edge of what she had informed him this morning, were her boy-short knickers. He'd told her he didn't care what they were called—they were bloody sexy on her and made her promise to buy more.

Harry slipped his fingers underneath the hem of Ginny's knickers, silently thanking whoever designed panties that could make a woman's arse look even better than it had before. He stroked her skin and felt Ginny press herself closer to him.

They were getting distracted.

Harry took a deep breath and removed his hand, gently pushing Ginny away so he could peel off his shirt.

"Where should we put it for safe keeping?" Ginny asked, folding the cloth back over the talisman and picking it up off the bed.

"Over here," Harry said. He strode over to the wardrobe that contained his pensieve and waved a hand over the latch. The door sprung open and Harry felt inside along the right side until he found the correct spot. He pushed gently and the back slid open to reveal a large iron door with a metal knob in the middle.

"A wall safe," Ginny said, surprised. "That's awfully muggle of you Harry."

"How do you know about muggle wall safes?" Harry asked. He held out his hand for the talisman and Ginny placed it gingerly in his palm.

"Bill," Ginny told him. "He's had to break into all kinds of things for Gringotts. Some of it has been muggle."

"Well," Harry said, opening the wall safe and placing the talisman inside, "this is no ordinary wall safe." He shut the door and spun the knob, which lit up briefly when he placed his hand into five indentations on the door of the safe.

He pulled his head out of the wardrobe and frowned at Ginny. "I think I'm going to need more of your blood," he finally said. "You might need to get into the safe at some point so I'll add you to the wards around it."

Ginny sighed.

"I hate this part," she whined. But she held out her hand anyway.

Harry took her hand gently and said a spell that made her flinch. "Big baby," he said playfully. A drop of blood appeared on the tip of her index finger and Harry used his wand to lift the drop up and levitate it over to the door of the wardrobe.

Ginny sucked on her finger after Harry let go of her hand and watched as he performed the complicated wand motions and spells that added her magical signature to the wardrobe's wards.

Finally, the wardrobe flashed a bright red for a moment and Harry nodded in satisfaction.

"All right," he told her, "give it a try."

Ginny waved her hand over the latch and it opened silently. She reached in and placed her palm on the door of the safe as well and smiled when it opened. Backing out, she closed both doors behind her.

"Why do you keep your pensieve under such protection?" she asked curiously.

A shadow fell across Harry's face. "Because there are things in my memories that I don't really want to fall into the wrong hands," he said evenly. He turned from her and began unbuckling his belt in preparation for bed.

"Harry-" Ginny said, reaching out a hand beseechingly. Her voice faltered and she let her hand drop.

Harry heard the question in her voice and felt like a prat. His memories were the stuff nightmares were made of and he felt very private about them. No one should ever have to view them—hell, he shouldn't have had to live through them. But he was serious when he said that in the wrong hands, they were dangerous.

He sighed and turned back around to find her questioning eyes fastened on him. "I'm sorry Gin," he said quietly. "I just…those memories, they're aren't pleasant and I don't like to dwell on them. And I mean it—it's not safe for everyone to view them. There's loads of information in there."

Ginny nodded her head slowly. "I understand Harry," she said gently. "I didn't mean to pry. I won't ask to look at them."

"I didn't think you were," he said honestly. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "I just…I'm a bit sensitive about them."

"I understand Harry," Ginny repeated. "Really, I do. I could probably use a pensieve myself to get rid of some of mine." She shuddered. "I have nightmares too you know."

Harry hugged her tighter. He probably should have guessed that of all people, Ginny would understand about bad memories giving you nightmares.

She pulled away and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Surely you've got good memories in there too?" she asked lightly. "You know, to combat the bad ones."

Harry's eyes went cloudy and then brightened. "Yeah, I do actually. Want to see one?"

Ginny smiled at the boyish excitement on his face. "Of course I do."

Harry opened the wardrobe again and rolled out the pensieve. He took his wand out, drew the memory from his brain and tossed it into the pensieve. Throwing his wand back on the bed, he turned to Ginny and held out his hand. She took it.

"You're going to go dressed like that then?" he asked.

Ginny looked down at herself and blushed, realizing she was in her knickers. "Oh! Do you think I need to change?"

Harry laughed. "No, they can't see us anyway." A small part of him was pleased that she was already so comfortable around him—even in her underwear. "You're dead sexy anyway."

He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Hmmm…I wonder if you can have sex in a memory?"

Ginny blushed again and giggled. "I think that would be a bit redundant don't you? We've already had sex in your memory."

"My reality too," he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She laughed and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the mouth.

"C'mon Potter, show me a memory."

"Right," Harry said. He turned to the pensieve and dipped his face in. Soon they were free falling into the memory and they landed with a thump on Harry's old bed in his dorm room at Hogwart's.

Ginny flipped onto her back and sat up. Harry's eyes immediately darkened when he realized that one of his fantasies had suddenly come true. Ginny was practically naked in his bed at Hogwart's. She must have felt the surge in his magic because Ginny gasped and turned her head.

"Oh no," she said, when she saw the look on his face. "Don't start that. I want to watch this memory, not fulfill some teenage boy fantasy in your old bed."

"Ginny," Harry couldn't help but sound pitiful. He grabbed her arm as she was about to scramble off the bed and pulled her against him, leaning down to nibble softly on her ear. His hands began stroking her sides and he was pleased when she unconsciously arched against him.

"C'mon baby," he said, using the term of endearment he had recently discovered never failed to get results, "just one little shag. I'm just a poor orphan who never got to shag his girlfriend in the only home he ever knew."

He pulled back to look at her as pitifully as he could.

"Nothing is ever just a little shag with you Potter," Ginny said, squirming away from him. "Now come on, show me this memory."

"Okay," he sighed dramatically. "But someday, when I'm old and gray and can't get it up anymore, you'll wish you shagged me every chance you had."

Ginny looked at him exasperatedly. "You know that as soon as we started something, the memory would kick us out anyway. And besides, I seriously doubt you will _ever_ not be able to get it up."

She pointed to the obvious tent in his pants. "That thing never seems to go down."

"Not when you're around," Harry conceded. "Hmmm…. maybe we'll go to Hogwart's soon; you know, visit the old stomping ground. And if, on our trip down memory lane, we happen to visit my old dorm room, and if everyone else happens to be down at the Great Hall…"

His voice trailed off suggestively and he looked at her hopefully. "Then can I have you on my old bed?"

Ginny couldn't stop herself from grinning at him. "Maybe," she said. "But I don't think the poor boy who has your bed now will appreciate that."

Harry shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides he can tell all his buddies the famous Harry Potter shagged the equally-famous Ginny Weasley on his bed."

"I'm hardly equally famous," Ginny said dryly. "Nor do I want to be."

"You were there," Harry said firmly. "At the end. Ron and Hermione too. You were all famous for a while but then you left and no one would tell the press where you'd gone. Ron and Hermione had to deal with the worst of it."

"Oops," Ginny said cheekily.

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Oops. But believe me, he might be a little disgusted, but any boy who knows I shagged you on his bed, especially if you look the way you do right now, will tell all his friends. In fact, he'll probably find a way to take credit for it."

Ginny rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath that sounded like "boys" and "testosterone."

"Okay," Harry said, standing up and rubbing his hands together evilly. "Let's go stand over here, out of the way."

"What memory is this?" Ginny asked. She followed him over to the corner by Neville's old bed.

"Remember the prank war we had to celebrate the end of our NEWTS seventh year?"

Ginny nodded. Harry and his roommates, giddy with euphoria that their NEWTS were over, had spent the last two weeks of school playing outrageous pranks on each other. It had been Seamus' idea and the boys decided the seventh year girls would vote on who actually won the prank war.

She smiled to herself. Harry had made her promise to help him and she had come up with some fiendishly clever plots that went over very well and nearly won him the prank war championship. What he hadn't known was that Ron had enlisted her help as well and she had played the role of double agent. So when Harry's final plan to prank Ron had backfired so spectacularly as to make Harry the actual victim, Ron was declared the clear winner.

Ginny couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that welled up inside of her. She tried to control her giggles but they just got worse when Harry shot her a look of warning.

"Don't start that again," he warned. "Don't think I've forgotten that it was YOUR fault, your _betrayal,_ that caused me to lose the prank war."

Ginny let the giggles out and they grew into a full-out laugh. "I'm sorry," she wheezed, "but the look on your face when Millicent Bulstrode kissed you in the Great Hall."

She sat down on Neville's bed, clutching her side and roaring with laughter. She laughed so hard, she started choking and Harry had to whack her between the shoulder blades to get her breathing again.

"Oh Merlin," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I'd forgotten about that. That was good times."

"Nothing good about your best friend betraying you," Harry grumped. "I looked like an idiot."

"Millicent didn't think so," Ginny pointed out, trying not to laugh again. "Besides, it was the ultimate prank on my part. The judges awarded me honorary champion remember? I still have the hastily conjured trophy somewhere."

She sighed dreamily. "I remember like it was yesterday, the look on your face when you realized what I had done. It was one of my finest moments. Fred and George bought me dress robes as congratulations."

"Hey!" she said suddenly. "Let's view _that_ memory when we're done with this one!"

"No," Harry said shortly. "I don't fancy watching Millicent Bulstrode trying to stick her tongue down my throat. Living through it was horrible enough. She followed me around for days."

He shuddered and Ginny broke out into laughter again. "I'd forgotten about that too!" she said between giggles. "Remember when she cornered you in that classroom?"

"If you're quite finished-" Harry said icily. He was trying not to grin at her; it HAD been funny but he didn't want her to know it.

Harry waved his hand. The memory started and they settled back to watch. He leaned against the wall and tugged Ginny up from Neville's bed, settling her back against his front and holding her to him with his arms around her waist.

A younger Harry and Dean Thomas opened the door to the seventh-year boys dorm and, giggling like schoolgirls, ran to the other side of Harry's bed and knelt down so they were hidden from view but could still keep an eye on the door.

A younger Ron soon appeared and walked casually into the room and over to his bed. He threw his backpack on the bed and sat down on the edge. He reached down, as if to untie his laces and suddenly sprang up, a look of horror on his face.

Bellowing, he ran to the nearby mirror and stared in shock at himself dressed in the horrible, moth-eaten, lacey dress robes his mother had forced on him during his fourth year at school. He patted himself down in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to scream but couldn't.

"Wha…" he finally choked out and spun back around to his bed. As soon as he touched the bed the dress robes disappeared and he sighed in relief. Smoothing down the front of his familiar Hogwart's uniform, he sat back down on the bed only to spring back up once again, as the dress robes reappeared. He ran to the mirror again and this time he had no trouble screaming as his shoes had changed into strappy high heels (Ginny thought they looked awfully familiar) and his hair fell in soft ringlets around his face."

"Potter!" Ron shouted. "Where the hell are you?" He whirled around and moved towards Harry's bed. He stopped suddenly as the outfit and the hair disappeared when he grabbed the post of his bed. He sat back on the bed in shock and immediately jumped back up again as the dress robes, hair, shoes and a bonnet reappeared.

Ron backed away from the bed, eyeing it suspiciously. He tentatively reached out a finger and touched the mattress, sighing with relief when the outfit disappeared. He touched the mattress again and he was suddenly dressed like a girl again, only this time he had breasts.

"That's it!" he said, stamping his foot in frustration.

Harry and Dean had lost complete control of themselves by then and were howling with laughter on the other side of Harry's bed. Ron heard them and whirled around again, the long, velvety dress robes swishing around him. He moved towards them, his face thunderous but he tripped on his high heels and landed with a thump on the floor.

"Ouch!" he roared.

Harry and Dean were crying by now. Dean was clutching his stomach and Harry was massaging the stitch in his side. Ron reached up and slapped a hand on his mattress, instantly changing his clothes back into the normal uniform and gingerly got to his feet.

"Harry, Dean," he said in a low voice. He was staring hard at them, a devilish glint in his eye.

"Yes Ron?" Dean asked innocently, trying to help Harry stand back up.

"Run."

It was a threat and Harry and Dean took it seriously. They immediately sprang into action and the genius of choosing Harry's bed from which to watch the prank was obvious as it was the closest to the door. Even still, they wouldn't have made it except that as he pushed himself off the bed, Ron's clothes changed back into the girlish outfit. He fell to the ground with his first step. Harry and Dean took the advantage and ran pell-mell out the door, their laughter echoing off the stone hallway.

Ron was cursing, twisting on the floor as he struggled to get the high heel sandals off his feet. "Stupid shoes," he muttered. He was finally able to wrench them off and the memory faded as he slapped a hand back on the mattress and took off after his friends.

Harry and Ginny landed back in their bedroom at Grimwauld Place. Ginny was laughing so hard she couldn't stand up straight and Harry supported her over to the bed where she collapsed in a giggling heap.

"The best part," Harry told her, "was that Ron was convinced the charm was on his bed. It was really on his nightstand. Dean had charmed it that morning after Ron left for breakfast. Every time he got within five inches of the nightstand, the charm took effect."

Harry laughed at the memory. "He spent the whole night sleeping on the floor. He said that after the breasts, he couldn't be sure what else we would do to him. Dean finally told him the next morning, after he woke up in the dress robes again. The look on his face was priceless. I think Neville has a photograph somewhere."

Ginny laughed harder and rolled onto her back, her hands clutching at her flat stomach. Her chest was heaving as she gasped for breath and Harry's face suddenly turned feral, as if he had just remembered that his girlfriend was half-naked in sexy knickers.

He stepped away from the bed and quickly removed his pants and his boxers to reveal a giant erection. He jumped back on the bed, covering Ginny with his body and silenced her giggles with a searing kiss.

"Ginny," he panted, removing his tongue from her mouth and sliding a hand down that tight stomach and underneath the waistband of the knickers that had been driving him crazy since he'd watched her put them on that morning.

"We're not in the memory anymore." He found the apex at her thighs and parted her lips to find her already wet. Without warning, he slid a finger inside her and groaned when her hot sheath gripped his finger and squeezed rhythmically.

"No," she gasped, arching towards him. "We're not. So get these bloody clothes off me."

He withdrew his finger and complied quickly, almost frantically.

"No foreplay," she panted breathlessly at him. "Just come inside."

She let her knees fall open as he tugged the underwear down her legs and urged him back up between them. She wrapped her legs around him and rubbed her wetness on his hardness.

Harry felt his control slipping and practically ripped the bra off of her. He reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance.

"I have told you before," he said, plunging into her, "stop wearing underwear."

She didn't answer, just squeezed herself around him and began moving her hips, urging him without words to go faster.

Harry let his magic go with a roar and it reached for hers. Their auras sprang into life, the green and red immediately melting into the bright gold aura, and they were lost in each other.

Harry felt himself slipping away until there was only her and the way she felt underneath him. The fire inside of her ran through his veins. It combined with the energy inside of him, and moved with it, urging his magic to speed up until their magic was so intertwined, he felt like he was a part of her as much as she was a part of him. He could feel the way she felt as he moved in her; could feel her love for him and the way he was loving her. When she climaxed, the pleasure that washed over her washed over him and triggered his own climax. He shot wave after wave into her, the pleasure so intense he thought he might pass out. His hips gave a final thrust and his cock a final spasm as it finished emptying before he collapsed, boneless on top of her.

After a few minutes, he managed to gather enough strength to roll to her side. "Love you," he said hoarsely."

"Love you," she breathed, her eyes still shut tight as if she was savoring what had just happened.

His moved his arm across the mattress and found her hand. Lacing their fingers together he said just one word: "Wow."

Ginny smiled faintly and twisted her head on the pillow to look at him wearily.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Wow."

-----------------------------------------------

Ginny woke the next morning remarkably energetic for someone who had stayed up until 4 a.m. robbing museums, viewing old memories and having her brains shagged out. She hummed quietly to herself in the shower, mulling over the events of last night…well, the morning really.

She took her time in the bathroom, shaving her legs and covering her body with lotion before wrapping a blue terrycloth robe around her freshly scrubbed self. She walked into the bedroom and noticed that Harry was up and missing from the bed.

Deciding he'd probably gone down to breakfast, she walked down the stairs and into the sunny breakfast room. Harry was sitting at the table, bare-chested, reading the morning's _Daily Prophet_ and shoving eggs absentmindedly into his mouth.

"Anything in the London paper?" she asked brightly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her, his eyes brightening. She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.

"Morning a ghrá," she said softly, her eyes flitting over his face. Damn but he was sexy in the morning—his green eyes sleepy, his hair messier than usual and his face shadowed with his morning beard.

Harry reached an arm around her waist and, shoving his chair away from the table, tugged her around to the front of him. He pulled her down onto his lap, directing her knees so that she was forced to straddle him. He pressed the erection he'd had since waking up this morning into the center of her and gripped her hips, fingers biting into her skin as she thrust back against him.

"Good morning," he murmured. He lifted his head and began trailing kisses up and down her neck, his whiskers scratching her skin.

Ginny shivered.

"Harry," she stammered. "Dobby is going to-"

"I gave Dobby the morning off," he interrupted her. Keeping one hand on her hip, he untied the sash at her waist and slid a hand up her chest to her shoulder where he pushed the robe off and it fell open to her arm, baring her left breast to him.

"Aha, breakfast," he said, and leaned forward, capturing a rosy pink nipple with his mouth and suckling gently.

"Harry!" Ginny gasped. She tangled a hand in his hair and held his head to her breast. "We can't do this here."

"Can too," he said, his voice muffled around her breast. "It's our house. We can do whatever we want." He let go of her hip and shoved the robe off her other shoulder so that it fell to the floor and she was left straddling his lap, completely naked.

"Now this is the kind of thing I want on my plate every morning," he said, his eyes roaming her appreciatively.

He reached between them and slid one hand down into the waistband of his plaid pajama pants. He pulled out his erection, and shoved the waistband down until it rested at the base of his cock.

"C'mon Nix," he murmured to her, rubbing the tip of his erection against her red curls. "I didn't get enough of you last night." He wasn't sure he would _ever_ get enough of her.

Ginny shivered again. She hadn't gotten enough either; only she'd been too tired to muster up the energy for more. She had craved that closeness with him when she first woke up and considered waking him up in a very similar manner; but he'd looked so peaceful, she hadn't the heart to disturb him.

Ginny lifted her hips slightly and positioned herself over him. Looking into his eyes, she sank down his shaft slowly, taking him inside her warm and already wet sheath, moaning as he filled her so completely.

"You take up every part of me," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. She moved her hips, rocking gently up and down on top of him.

Harry grunted in response and his gaze shifted to where their bodies met. He had never watched himself slide in and out of her before and he was amazed at the contrast between her red curls and his black; the way her porcelain skin looked against his own; and the way his cock looked, slick with her juices as she moved over him.

His eyes moved back up to her face to find her watching him with a small smile on her face. 

"It's beautiful isn't it?" she said softly. "The way we look together."

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "But it's because of you. Everything is beautiful because of you."

Ginny shook her head gently as she rode him, her movements increasing as the pleasure rose in her body.

"No," she whispered. "It's you. You're the one; you've always been the one. My only one." She leaned forward, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Harry's hands gripped her hips and he began thrusting into her from underneath. She was gripping his cock with a ferocity that shot sparks of pleasure through his body and he suddenly found he couldn't go slowly anymore. Her hips started moving faster and a low growl rose in his body, beginning in his toes and moving swiftly up to his groin and straight to his heart, finally exploding through his mouth in a loud roar as he emptied himself inside of her.

Ginny felt the hot splash of Harry's climax inside of her and threw her head back, riding him with total abandon until she soon followed his roar with one of her own. At some point, her hand had removed its grip from the back of the chair and tangled in his hair. She pulled tightly as she came, her hand fisting in his locks.

They came down, both breathing heavily, Harry still inside of her. Her hand lost its' grip on his hair and she slumped against him, her body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Harry's arms came up around her and he cuddled her to him.

"That just gets better every time doesn't it?" Ginny finally asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

Harry nodded but couldn't speak. He really needed a drink of water; his throat hurt from screaming. The ache for her that seemed to grow with each passing day had been appeased and he might, _might_, be able to get through the rest of the day without wanting her as desperately as he had this morning when he'd woken up and realized she wasn't lying beside him.

Ginny finally stood up and picked up her robe from the floor. She smirked at him as she tied her robe back on and watched as he tucked himself back into his pants.

"Just can't get through the day can you?" she asked, sitting down in the chair next to him and reaching for the orange juice.

"Can you?" Harry lifted his eyebrows at her.

Ginny blushed and shook her head. "No," she admitted. "I'm starting to think you've put some sort of spell on me."

Harry chuckled and took a long drink of orange juice. "Well, I'm starting to get worried about this. I feel this sort of ache for you all the time. What do you think that is?"

"Love," Ginny said simply. "It'll get better. Give it time."

Harry speared a banger on his fork. "Do…do you ache for me?" He groaned mentally. He sounded like an insecure schoolgirl.

Ginny paused in the middle of spreading pumpkin butter on her toast. "All the time," she said, looking at him in disbelief. "I have for 10 years. You were just too much of a git to notice."

"Oh," Harry said, and he shoved the sausage into his mouth. He chewed, contemplating her with a thoughtful look. "That's all right then."

"It's not all right," she retorted, munching on her toast. "I figure you owe me a good four years of aching since you claim to have been in love with me for the past six. But I was in love with you for the past 10 so you owe me four."

"Okay," Harry said, smiling cheekily at her. He winked at her. "It's actually kind of fun anyway."

Ginny laughed and reached for the spoon in the egg dish. "What's the plan today?" she asked, plopping scrambled eggs on her plate.

Harry swallowed his mouthful. "Thought I'd take the talisman to Potter Glen and see if I can sense the magic on it. It's quiet there and the only people who know about the place are you and Dobby."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Can I come then? I won't disturb you. It might be a good idea to check the library there for information about those runes."

"Are you sure they are runes?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. "No, but there's only one way to find out."

----------------------------------------------------

Six hours later found Ginny slumped against the massive desk in the library at Potter Glen in frustration. She'd been at it for hours and, although the library was full of interesting books, nothing had turned up that even remotely matched the markings she copied down from the talisman.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her loose ponytail and tugged the hair band out, allowing her fingers to massage away the tension in her head. Her eyes hurt from squinting at pages of ancient writing and her brain hurt from deciphering runes.

Straightening up, she smoothed her hair back into a ponytail and began gathering books to place back on the shelves. She was pretty certain she'd exhausted the resources here but one more run through wouldn't hurt. Not today though. She was tired and hungry and needed to go find Harry. He was probably worn out from sifting through all the layers of magic surrounding that talisman.

Harry walked into the library, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. He'd been working on that damned necklace all day and had needed a little nap after he was finished to replenish his energy.

He paused at the sight of his girlfriend's wonderful arse in the air as she bent over, sliding a particularly heavy book back onto its' shelf. Harry made a mental note to tell her how exceptional those jeans made her bum look.

Ginny straightened up and turned around. Her eyes looked exhausted if not a bit frazzled.

"Find anything?" he asked, knowing she hadn't. That would have been too easy.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not a damned thing." She walked back to the desk and tapped her wand on the book Bintliff had given them, shrinking it back down to size.

"The ministry information on this thing contains very little facts," she told him, stuffing the book into her back pocket. "It's mostly full of speculation and possibilities other researchers eliminated. I'm going to have to keep looking."

"Yeah, I figured," Harry said glumly. He pulled the talisman out of his pocket.

"What did you find out?" she asked, nodding at the object in his hand.

Harry turned the talisman over in his palm. "Well it's full of magic," he said, holding it out to her. "And I think the light we saw on the tape was a duplication charm. Tuelsburg must have copied it and sent the copy somewhere else. It took me quite a while to get past the protection wards the ministry had placed on it and then almost three hours just to sift through whatever protection was on it when Hooks found it."

He shook his head. "There was nasty shit on it," he said, not bothering to censor his language for her. "Whatever Hooks got from it, I'm not sure it was all good."

"What do you mean?" she asked, sitting back down at the desk.

"There are all kinds of curses on this thing. Even if his wizard was able to get him past the wards at the caves, Hooks would have been cursed the moment he touched the talisman."

Ginny put her head in her hands. "None of this makes sense," she moaned. "How can someone just get magical powers from bit of jewelry and then not know they're cursed? A curse or hex should have been instantaneous if someone was trying to protect the object from being removed."

"We need to find out how he died." Harry reflected. "And we need to start looking for Tuelsburg too. If he's a muggle how did he find out about this? How did he know where to look for it, and more importantly, how did he cast a duplication charm on it if he's a muggle?"

"The book says Hooks died of some sort of food poisoning," Ginny said. "They blamed it on bad meat."

Harry shook his head again. "No, there's got to be another explanation." He held up the talisman. "I'm telling you, there were some nasty curses on this thing, he would have been injured or killed the moment he touched it."

"Harry," Ginny said, titling her head. "What if once a person touched it, the curses and so forth disappeared? What if Hooks died when he picked it up but the next person who came along would have been able to touch it-"

"-and then use it?" He finished for her. "Hmm…that's something to think about. We need to find out who was on that trip with him. If someone assumed his identity-"

"-which they would have to do because they wouldn't want to tell people the object killed Hooks," she interrupted. "They would want to use it and must've known people would be scared of it if there was already a death attached to it."

"It's a good theory," Harry mused. "But it's only a theory. We're going to need to track down who was on his team and what happened to them."

"More research," Ginny groaned.

"Sorry Nix," he said sympathetically. "I don't see any other way 'round it. I'll help this time."

"Well then we need to go to Hogwart's," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "It's the best wizarding library around and we can't overlook it."

Harry stiffened. "I'm not going there until that blasted tournament is over with," he said firmly. "We'll go after Tuelsburg first. He needs to be caught anyway. He might be able to direct our research."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. They had gone haunted when she had mentioned Hogwarts. She'd forgotten about the TriWizard Tournament currently taking place at Hogwarts. It made sense that he wouldn't want to go back there—people were sure to exploit his presence and considering what had happened at the last tournament…well, she understood.

"Right," she said, nodding once. Her stomach growled and she laid a hand soothingly over it.

"Are we done for the day now?" she asked pleadingly. "I'm starving. Remind me to bring some biscuits or something to keep in the kitchen the next time we come here."

Harry smiled at her and held out his hand, which she grasped in her own. "Let's go grab a bite at the Three Broomsticks," he suggested. "We'll stop at Ron and Hermione's and see if they want to join us."

"Brilliant," Ginny said gratefully and she allowed him to pull her to the front door. "To Ron and Hermione's front door then?"

Harry nodded and she disappeared with a soft pop. Two seconds later, Harry disappeared from the front entrance hall of Potter Glen and reappeared at Ron and Hermione's cottage in Hogsmead. Ginny was just raising her hand to knock on the door.

Hermione opened the door just as Ginny was about to let her fist fall against the red door.

"Oh!" she said, delighted to see them. "I thought it was you, the wards said so."

She stepped back and ushered them inside. Harry gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed her and Ginny followed it up with a warm hug.

"Have you guys eaten 'Mione?" Harry asked. He stepped into the living room and looked around. "Where's Ron?"

"Outside fiddling with his broom," Hermione said, waving a hand dismissively. "He says it's too pregnant to think in here."

Harry stifled a laugh and made a beeline for the back door. "We're going to eat at the pub, want to come with us?"

"We'd love to," Hermione said, looking at Ginny gratefully. "I just don't have the energy to cook all the time."

"I'll go get Ron," Harry called over his shoulder as he stepped out the back door.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You said the magic word 'Mione—'broom.' Now we'll never see either of them again."

"Don't be so dramatic," her friend replied. "They've got to eat sometime."

"But I'm starving," Ginny whined. "I've not eaten all day."

"What did you do today?" Hermione asked, pulling on her coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck.

"Worked," said Ginny shortly. "With Harry. Loads of paperwork. I don't know why I thought this would be a fun job."

"Well," Hermione said, pulling on gloves. "I'm sure you'll get to travel soon."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "Harry said something about Turkey but we'll see. We might not need to go."

"What's going down in Turkey?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Nothing," Ginny said, smiling at her. "You know that."

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, I figured that'd be your answer. Oh well, can't blame a witch for trying."

She walked to the back door and flung it open. "Ronald! Get in here so we can go eat. You're sister is starving and your unborn children could use some feeding as well!" She slammed the door closed again and smiled in satisfaction as both Ron and Harry trudged through it almost immediately.

"Three Broomsticks?" Ron asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Let's walk," Hermione suggested. "I could use the exercise."

"I'm just going to go get a biscuit from the kitchen then to tide myself over," Ginny told them grumpily. She disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a few minutes later, her mouth full of crisps and one hand clutching five cookies.

"Sorry," Harry said to Ron and Hermione apologetically. "Ginny tends to lose all manners when she's hungry."

He sighed dramatically and turned to his girlfriend. "I can't take you anywhere sometimes," he told her.

"Stuff it Potter," Ginny said, swallowing her mouthful and glaring at him. "You were the one who drove me like a slave all day and didn't even feed me."

"You're an adult," he said. "I figured you could take care of that yourself."

Ginny didn't respond, as she was too busy chewing a cookie but figured she'd get him back for that comment later.

"As amusing as this is," Ron began, "I'm hungry too. Let's go."

He took Hermione's hand and opened the front door. The couple paused outside the door, waiting for Harry and Ginny to close the door behind them and Ron let go of his wife's hand to tap the deadbolt with his wand. He slid his wand into his back pocket and sped up to catch up with Ginny who had already made a beeline for the main road. He ran up behind her and reached over her shoulder, snagging a cookie just as she was about to pop it in her mouth.

He laughed at her cry of indignation and munched happily on the cookie, ignoring the death glare his sister had just given him. Just as he swallowed it, Ginny tackled him to the ground and he rolled over with her, scrambling to keep her from getting him in what he knew would be a death-like chokehold.

"That was my cookie," Ginny spluttered, her laughter making her breathless as she tried to put Ron in a chokehold.

"It was my cookie first," he retorted, trying to capture her arms and pin them to the ground. "You stole it from my kitchen."

Just as she was about to wrap her arm around his neck, he pushed off the ground with his arms and stood up shakily, taking her with him. He hooked his arms underneath her knees and held her against his back.

Ginny shrieked as he stood up and wrapped her arms around her brother's neck before settling into the piggyback ride happily.

"C'mon," she urged. "Go faster. Don't let the git and the pregnant woman slow us down. We're Weasleys, nothing gets between us and food!"

Ron let out a whoop, and took off towards the village, his sister bouncing on his back. She laughed joyfully and shouted "For the Weasleys!" as he carried her towards the pub.

Ginny looked over her shoulder at Harry and their eyes met. He was laughing at her. She grinned back and turned around, wrapping her arms tighter around her brother and letting herself slip back into her childhood for one sweet moment.

The look of sheer and utter joy on Ginny's face as she looked back at him had taken Harry's breath away. Her red hair had been streaming behind her and her eyes bright with laughter. He wanted that look to be on her face every day and he wanted to be the one who put it there.

His thoughts must have betrayed him because he felt Hermione hook her arm through his elbow and he looked down to find her looking at him warmly.

"All right there Harry?" she asked.

Harry looked back at Ginny who was by now squealing as Ron threatened to drop her into a nearby fountain. Her brother eventually threw her over his shoulder and continued towards the pub. Ginny pounded his back with her fists. She was laughing so hard her face was bright red.

Harry laughed as Ron nodded genially at an elderly witch and even held out his hand to help her step onto the sidewalk, all while Ginny screamed and twisted over his shoulder. He ignored her and stopped to say a few words to the older witch.

"Oh don't mind her," Harry heard Ron say, "she gets like this sometimes. Just ignore her—best thing for it."

Hermione and Harry both laughed at that and Harry threw his arm around his other best friend as they made their way towards their Weasleys.

"I'm brilliant Hermione," he finally answered. "Never better actually."

Hermione smiled at the look of contentment on Harry's face. She'd been waiting to see that look for years.

"Well, it's about time," she sighed.


	15. Chapter 15 Puzzles for the New Year

_A/N: It's extra long--because you had to wait so long._

"Ginny," said Harry, his face serious. "You know what has to happen. What you have to do? There can't be any mistakes. We're only going to get one shot at this."

Ginny rolled her eyes but nodded her acceptance anyway. "I'm ready," she told him. "Let's do it."

Harry gave a sharp nod and held up three fingers. When the last one dropped, they both sprang out from behind the large tree where they had taken cover and let their ammunition fly.

Large white snowballs sailed with deadly accuracy towards some nearby bushes where Fred, Ron and Alicia had dived earlier after they were ambushed by Natalia, Angelina and Hermione. George, Charlie and Bill were on the move elsewhere and Harry and Ginny had been abandoned by Percy who had received an urgent summons from the Ministry of Magic.

It was the annual Weasley Snowball Fight held on Christmas Eve every year. After Percy had left them, Ginny had tried to declare the fight over because the teams were uneven but Harry wouldn't hear of it and had ushered her behind the large pine tree so they could discuss strategy.

"Buck up Gin, you're on the Chosen One's team—that's like having a total of ten people," he'd told her, trying not to grin.

"Did you just tell me to 'buck up?'" she'd asked, disbelievingly. Before he could answer, she smashed a snowball in his face and they had wrestled on the snow-covered ground for a moment before Ginny called a truce and they'd returned to mapping out a game plan.

The plan was simple: Throw everything they had hard and fast and take no prisoners. They wouldn't stop until victory was theirs and their opponents had been squashed into the snow. This was Harry's idea of an inspiring pep talk but he'd been forced to cut it short when Ginny threatened him with another snowball.

Ginny felt a wet snowball smash into her shoulder and she spun around just in time to find George, Charlie and Bill duck behind a fallen log. "Harry!" she shrieked, "they're behind us too! We're surrounded!"

"Retreat!" he shouted back. "Back to the tree!"

They sprinted for cover and threw themselves behind the tree, just in time to escape a deluge of snowballs thrown at them from behind the nearby shed.

"I think they're ganging up on us," Harry panted.

"Yeah," Ginny said, her breath coming out in white puffs of air. "It's time to get sneaky."

"You know the rules," he reminded her, "no apparating or making yourself invisible. How are we going to get around them?"

"The issue," Ginny instructed, "is not how can we get around them but rather, how much snow can we manage to dump on them at one time in order to crush them like the bugs they are. I mean can you control the earth's elements or not?"

Harry looked at her with a glint in his eye. "I like the way you think Phoenix, I knew I was sleeping with you for a reason."

"Hey, I'm more than just a pretty piece of arse. I've got brains too you know," she said. She peered cautiously around the edge of the tree but quickly ducked back when a snowball crashed against the bark. When she turned back, it was to find another sort of glint in his eye. "What?" she asked with trepidation. "What's that look for?"

Harry blinked. "Nothing," he said innocently. "I was NOT imagining you naked on the snow. I promise."

"Really Harry? Are you ever _not_ imagining me naked?" She turned to fire a quick snowball at Fred who was making a dash for the safety of the shed. She looked back and noticed the way Harry's eyes had darkened, the way his wet hair fell over his brow and the way his mouth curled up at the corners as he watched her. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold.

"Actually, you know what-" said Ginny, suddenly changing her mind. Harry's eyes brightened and Ginny felt the heat inside of her flare up. The snow she was kneeling on melted in twin circles around her knees as she reached for his head and brought it closer to hers. Just as she was about to press her lips to his blue-tinged ones, a hard snowball smacked into the back of her head. The impact caused her forehead and nose to crash into Harry's so that instead of the soft kiss she had anticipated, she got a bruised forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed, rubbing his nose. Ginny cursed in Gaelic and spun around to see George duck back behind the shed.

"Quit snogging!" they heard Charlie shout. "C'mon, stop hiding behind that tree and fight like a wizard!"

"Right, that's it," Harry said. "Now they've interfered with snogging." He got to his feet and crouching, moved quickly over to a large, untrammeled patch of snow. "Cover my back," he hissed over his shoulder to her.

Ginny stood up and pressed herself against the tree and took out her wand. She pointed it at the shed and smiled to herself as she used it to lift a portion of the snow piled on the roof, and levitate it over a few inches before dropping it unceremoniously behind the building. She was rewarded with several cries of indignation and Harry shot an evil grin at her.

Harry stood up fully and took off his gloves, holding both hands out palm down over the snow-covered ground. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply. Ginny felt the earth tremble as the snow streaked into the air and spun around itself to form three separate funnels. Harry's eyes flew open, the orbs shining with an intense green light and he pushed his hands out, directing the funnels away from himself.

"Take one," he called to Ginny. Ginny lifted her wand again and used it to direct the funnel over to the bushes where she knew Ron and Alicia were still hiding. Harry took charge of the remaining two and simultaneously sent one to the shed and one to the log where, Charlie and Bill had taken cover. Howls erupted from all three areas as snow swirled around their opponents.

Harry and Ginny stepped out from behind the tree, laughing as the funnels collapsed onto the ground, leaving behind nine shapes buried in the snow. George poked his head out.

"No fair," he complained.

Ginny sidled over to the shape she suspected was Bill and planted her foot in the middle of what looked like his chest. "Give up?" she asked sweetly.

Bill shook snow out of his eyes and looked up to find his sister smiling angelically down at him. With a fake growl, he grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her down into the snow beside him. He scooped up a handful of snow and scrubbed her face with it. She shrieked and struggled to get away from the hands shoving snow in her face, but got a mouthful of snow instead.

Ginny spat out the snow and glared at her older brother. "Oh that's it," she declared and launched herself at him, tumbling with him over onto the ground and into the snow. Her denim-clad legs flailed as she struggled to land on top of him.

Harry watched as Fred declared a free-for-all and the rest of the Weasleys tackled Ginny and Bill, scrambling to shove snow in each other's faces. He caught a glimpse of his girlfriend's truly fine arse and legs flailing as her brothers piled on top of her. He heard Ron howl as one of her booted feet landed in his stomach. He saw George shove snow down the front of Charlie's trousers and winced as Fred shoved snow up the back of Ginny's shirt.

"Harry!" Ginny shrieked through her laughter, "Help me! Where's my hero?"

"Sorry Nix," he called. "Us non-Weasley's know better than to get involved in a mess like that."

"Chivalry is dead," she grumbled her head buried in Bill's armpit.

"Sorry half-pint," Charlie said from behind her. "Harry can't rescue you now." She squealed as he rubbed snow on the back of her neck.

Angelina, Alicia, Natalia and Hermione joined Harry on the sidelines, still brushing the snow off their clothes. "It's the same ending every year," Angelina sighed. "They always wind up in some sort of pile like a bunch of school kids. C'mon lets go back." She and Alicia hooked elbows and walked slowly back to the house.

"Let's break 'em up," Natalia suggested, launching a hastily-formed snowball at her husband's face. He barely had time to scowl at her before Ginny smashed more snow into his hair.

"Nah," Hermione said, smiling at her sister-in-law. "This is the first Christmas Ginny's been here in four years. Let them have their fun."

Harry shrugged. "Sorry Phoenix," he called out to Ginny. "Guess you'll just have to fight your way out of this one by yourself." He slung both arms around Natalia and Hermione's shoulders as they turned to walk back towards the Burrow.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted, fighting off Fred now who was trying to put her in a choke hold. "What happened to standing up for your woman?"

"Aren't you always telling me you can take care of yourself?" he shot back. "Weren't you the one who told me to stop trying to protect her all the time?"

Ignoring the laughter around her and vowing to shoot more fireballs at Harry the first chance she got, Ginny concentrated on escaping the clutches of her brothers who seemed to have some sort of unspoken and scarily-organized agreement to make her pay for missing the past four years of Weasley's snowball fights.

Later, the six Weasley siblings lay panting in a heap on the thoroughly trampled ground. They had decided to declare a truce after Bill had nearly poked Charlie's eye out and Fred's nose had started bleeding after George shoved a snowball a little too enthusiastically in his face.

"All right there Fred?" Ron asked, still trying to catch his breath.

Fred nodded. "Yeah. Ginny healed me up pretty well."

George rolled over and laid his head on his sister's stomach. "Good to have you home Ginners," he said, smiling at her through his wet bangs. Ginny lifted her hand and smoothed her brother's dripping hair back from his forehead.

"It's great to be home," she sighed happily.

Harry settled back into the lumpy and remarkably comfortable couch at the Burrow. Fleur and Penelope had stayed behind from the snowball fight to help Molly watch the children and they were currently occupied in the kitchen helping to prepare supper while the other Weasley women took their turn in taking care of the children.

"Fancy a game of chess Harry?" Arthur asked, putting down his paper.

"Sure," Harry agreed.

Playing Arthur was a lot easier than playing Ron. For one, they were more evenly matched and for another, Arthur's facial expressions were a lot easier to read during chess. They had been playing for a half hour when Harry heard the sound of stamping feet and laughter on the front porch and he assumed the Weasley Snowball Fight had come to an official end.

He looked up just as Ginny floated through the door. Her smile was beatific as she laughed with her brothers and he watched, more than a little mesmerized as she pushed her hair out of her face. Then she saw him and her eyes narrowed. Harry fought back a smile.

"Harry," she said conversationally, stepping into the living room and unwrapping the scarf from around her neck. "Remember when you abandoned me outside, piled underneath all my brothers while they shoved snow in my face?"

"Ginny," Harry said, lifting his eyebrows at her. "Remember that time at Hogwarts when you charmed my school uniform to be invisible to everyone but me and then charmed my boxers to make kissing noises?" He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

Ginny's expression changed and she regarded him thoughtfully. "Yes," she mused, "I do remember that. Fred and George sent me fireworks that spelled out my name in celebration." She took off her hat and twirled it around one finger. "Right then," she said sheepishly. "Call it even?"

"Deal," Harry said, grinning at her. He held up one hand and she high-fived him before stepping back into the hallway to hang up her scarf and hat.

"Well done," Arthur murmured to Harry. His eyes were fixed on the chessboard but there was a smirk on his face.

"Thanks," Harry said, still grinning.

Ginny walked back into the room and stood in front of the fire. As if the fire could sense her presence, the flames flared and reached out to wrap themselves around her like fiery snakes. Ginny stood still, palms out as she let the flames lick her skin and wet clothing. Steam rolled off her as her wet clothes and hair dried. She watched with a contented smile on her face as the fire wove its way around her until, with a wave of her hand, she sent the fire sulking back into the fireplace.

She turned back around to find Harry and Arthur staring at her. Her father's mouth had dropped open and Harry had a strange look on his face.

"What?" she asked. "I was wet."

"I have seen you do some amazing things," Arthur finally found his voice. "But that was…well…bizarre."

Ginny laughed. "Sorry, I guess I get used to it and don't think about it. The fire, it just wants to be with me." She shrugged one shoulder.

Harry, who still had that strange look on his face, titled his head. "Does that feel-" he searched for the word, "good?" He swallowed heavily. "Because it looked like you were really enjoying it."

Ginny's eyes widened. Had Harry been _turned on_ by that? "It does feel pretty good," she said slowly. "Like…um…a cat with catnip, no—it's not quite that stimulating…um I guess it feels like what one feels like after taking a nap. D'you know what I mean? You feel energized and refreshed when you wake up." She held a hand out towards the fire and Harry watched as a flame actually leaped out and settled in her palm. "That's what fire does for me," she said, watching as the flame danced on her palm. "It energizes me and comforts me."

Harry didn't much care how she explained it. All he knew was she had looked damned sexy with the fire crawling over her like that. It hadn't so much been the fire; it had been the look on her face. And her skin had been glowing. He loved it when her skin glowed like that. Her power was such a bloody turn-on.

Ginny couldn't help herself and she snorted, covering her mouth quickly to stop the giggles from escaping. Her father was looking a little uncomfortable as Harry stared at her, his eyes a dark green. Perhaps it was time for a distraction.

"Who's winning?" she asked brightly, tossing the flame back into the fire. She walked over and sat next to Harry. "Oh, Harry, don't tell me you let Dad take your queen. Pretty hopeless aren't you?"

"Yes," Harry murmured, his eyes back on the chessboard. "I am." He wasn't talking about chess and he suspected Ginny knew it because she nudged him with her knee.

"Ginny dear," Arthur asked, "how is your new job? I haven't seen you much at the Ministry."

Ginny shrugged and reached out to move one of Harry's pawns. "I really haven't been there very much. Harry's been teaching me all sorts of things and we've had a few meetings but most of them have been away from the Ministry. Diplomatic sorts of things."

Actually, the 'meetings' had involved breaking into a Muggle museum and hours of research looking for a clue to the strange runes on the talisman they'd stolen. They'd also taken an afternoon and searched Tuelsburg's office at the Muggle Ministry of Defense. Harry had gotten Bintliff to supply them with muggle credentials and they had spent five hours going through every single piece of paper in the office. Ginny had even spent a good 30 minutes pulling apart his bookshelves while Harry had secretly scanned the area for magic.

They hadn't any luck and neither had the Muggles. Harry and Ginny had checked out all the typical places a wizard would hide. The problem: They weren't sure if Sidney Tuelsburg was a muggle or a wizard. Ginny was sure there were a thousand places a muggle could hide and, as Harry had glumly pointed out, a wizard who knew his stuff wouldn't have any trouble hiding either. There were a thousand places to search and only two people to search them.

"I've been spending a lot of time in the Ministry library though," she said to her father. "Hermione's been beside herself with joy over me."

Arthur chuckled and moved his bishop, which Ginny promptly took with Harry's remaining knight and Arthur hunched over the board, concentrating on his next move.

His gleam of triumph over his next decisive move was quickly replaced with a look of dismay when Ginny checkmated him in three more moves. Shaking his head, he said, "You're almost as good as your brother. From now on, I only play Harry. He's better for my ego."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "I'm not that bad!"

Ginny linked arms with her father and smirked at Harry over her shoulder as Arthur led her into the kitchen. She seated herself at the table and pulled out a chair for Harry, patting the seat invitingly. "Don't worry, Harry," she teased. "You're not near as bad as Hermione is as chess."

"Hey!" said Hermione, swinging around from the counter, a full bowl of carrots in her hand. She swatted Ginny on the shoulder as she placed the food on the table but Ginny just rubbed her pregnant belly affectionately.

"I guess that IS good news," Harry commented, taking the seat next to his girlfriend. He draped an arm over the back of her chair and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, stopping in mid-pucker when he noticed a purple bruise forming on her cheekbone.

"Ginny," he frowned. He cupped her chin, his thumb brushing lightly over the fresh bruise. "When did you get this?"

"Hmm?" Ginny said distractedly. "Oh, probably during the snowball fight. I took a hard hit from someone's elbow."

"Does it hurt? It looks like it's going to be pretty big." His hand moved to palm the other side of her head, his fingers sliding into her hair to hold her head still. "Here, let me. Hold still."

Ginny expected Harry to do some sort of healing spell. She hadn't expected to feel a soft surge of magical energy come from him. Harry pressed his lips very gently to the bruise and Ginny closed her eyes as his magic swept over her and through her—little fingers of energy tingling her insides until they finally reached the damaged area on her cheek. They healed and soothed the bruise away until her skin was as unblemished as it had been before someone had shoved an elbow to it.

Ginny exhaled as Harry withdrew his magic from her back into himself. "Harry," she breathed. "That was-" she cut off as she noticed the entire room was watching them. Her brothers were staring at them with wide eyes and Hermione was eyeing them shrewdly. Tonks looked like she could be fighting a smile and Lupin's face held a sort of knowing expression. Her mother had paused, her wooden spoon frozen in mid-air.

"_What_ the _hell_ was that?" Charlie finally asked.

Harry flushed and backed away from Ginny. He hadn't really meant to let out so much magic; but he often lost his rigid control around Ginny. "Nothing," he said defensively. "Just a little…healing magic."

"I think that was a little more than healing magic," Hermione said carefully. "There was a…um…" She looked to Ron for help.

"Sort of a…a wave?" he suggested. Bill nodded

"A wave?" Ginny repeated, her brow furrowed. "What kind of wave."

"A magical wave," Remus supplied. "From Harry, I believe."

"Oh," Ginny said. She checked out Harry's expression from the corner of her eye. She could see that he did NOT want to have this dissected further. She reached forward and grabbed the spoon in the potatoes to spoon some on his plate.

"Well you should all be used to Harry doing unusual things by now." She put some potatoes on her own plate and reached for the meat.

"Well, come on, are we going to eat or not?"

Ginny woke up with a start, the bed sheets tangled around her legs. Breathing hard, she looked over to reassure herself Harry was still next to her and pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. It had only been a dream, a nightmare.

She'd been back in the Chamber of Secrets and though Harry had still come to save her, the Basilisk had killed him instead of the other way round. Ginny had been like a spectator watching the scene unfold before her but was helpless to interfere. She had screamed and screamed at Tom Riddle to stop but he hadn't and Harry had died a particularly gruesome death.

But it was just a dream, she reminded herself. She took her hand away and noticed that her brow was sweating. In fact, her whole body was sweating. Ginny didn't sweat very much anymore, as it was nearly impossible for her to get too hot. She threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. She made her way to the loo and splashed some water on her face before taking a moment to calm her racing heart.

"Ginny?"

She stepped back into the bedroom to find Harry up on his elbows and looking over at her side of the bed blearily. "I'm here," she said, crossing the room and crawling back into bed.

"You okay?" he mumbled sleepily before flopping back onto the pillows. He rolled to his side and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her to him as she scrambled to get the covers back on. He buried his face in her neck and sighed, already half-asleep again.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I just had a bad dream."

Harry lifted his head and looked at her in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, more awake now. His green eyes glowed in the moonlight streaming in from the windows.

"Yes," she said, yawning and snuggling further into his embrace. "I just need you to hold me." She rolled over to her side and nestled back into him, molding herself against the front of his body. He responded immediately and wrapped both arms around her. Ginny sighed happily when she felt him press a soft kiss to her shoulder as he curled them up together.

She drifted easily back to sleep and when she woke again, the morning sun was shining and there was a pile of presents at the foot of their bed.

"Harry," she said, nudging him with her elbow. "C'mon wake up. It's Christmas!"

Harry mumbled something unintelligible and settled further into his pillow, his arm tightening around her.

"Harry," she urged, struggling to get out of the iron-like grip he had on her. "It's Christmas!" She pulled at his arm until he let go of her. She twisted onto her back and sat up. "C'mon," she said, pushing at his chest until he rolled over onto his back. "I want to open presents!"

Harry groaned and grabbed a pillow, dragging it over the top half of his head. "What is it with Weasley's and Christmas?" he complained, his voice muffled. "The presents will still be there if we wake up at a decent hour."

"It's 8 o'clock!" Ginny said. "It IS a decent hour. Now get up you lazy sod. Or I'm sending back the gifts at the foot of your bed."

Harry pushed the pillow up from his head. "Gifts?" he asked, his eyes blinking against the light. "As in plural?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "As in more than one. Now bloody well come on."

Harry sighed and sat up, propping himself up against the headboard. "All right," he sighed dramatically. "But I'm going back to bed after this. We don't have to be at your mum's until noon." He held out his hands and the presents that were his zoomed into his hands and lap. He selected one that looked suspiciously like a book from Hermione and began opening it.

Ginny, he noticed, had already torn into half of hers and was currently unwrapping her annual Weasley sweater. "Look Harry," she said, laughing. "Mum knitted a lightning bolt on my sweater this year." She grinned at him and tugged the emerald green jumper over her head.

Harry grinned back when her head popped out of the neck and her red hair floated around her head with static electricity. He reached out and smoothed the hair down, sliding his hand down to cup her chin.

"I like it," he said. "Now everyone will know you're mine."

"I think they've figured that out already," said Ginny, her chocolate brown eyes laughing at him. "You snarl at anyone who even looks at me funny."

"I do not," Harry said defensively. "There was just that one time at the pub. That guy was looking at your arse! I thought he was going to buy it a drink."

Ginny giggled. "Still, you didn't have to growl at him and get him kicked out of the pub."

"Yes, I did," Harry said shortly. "Your arse wasn't the only thing he was looking at."

"And what about that poor bloke at the Muggle Ministry when we went to search Tuelsburg's office?"

"Poor bloke?! Ginny, he asked you out when I stepped out of the room for two seconds!"

"And I said 'no' quite firmly," Ginny retorted. "But that was no excuse to threaten him with sexual harassment charges."

"Well…he should know better," Harry grumbled. He reached for another package and was touched to find that Ron had given him a golden snitch. He'd once seen his father play with a golden snitch in a pensieve and his fist automatically closed on the snitch before he released and caught it again—much like his father had done in the memory.

Ginny smiled and reached for her last gift, a pair of socks from Dobby. Touched, she wriggled her feet out from underneath the covers and immediately put them on.

"Welcome to the family, Gin," Harry said, smiling at her feet. "Dobby must really like you."

"I know," she said. "He sends me a pair every year."

"He does?" Harry asked, his mouth falling open. "I never knew that!"

"We made friends at Hogwart's," Ginny shrugged. "I think it was because I wouldn't leave the hospital wing after Malfoy sent that bludger towards you during your seventh year."

"That little bugger…" Harry said, looking towards the bedroom door as if Dobby was right on the other side and could feel his stare. "He's been in touch with you this whole time and he never said a word!"

"I don't know if you could call it 'keeping in touch,'" she said. "We exchanged Christmas presents." She grinned at him. "Although he did tell me the other day how happy he was that Master Harry had his Wheezy back so Master wouldn't be so lonely now."

"I have told him to stop calling me master," Harry muttered. He finished opening his presents and tugged on his own red Weasley sweater with a snitch on the front before turning to Ginny with a big smile. "Ready for your presents?"

Ginny nodded excitedly and Harry lifted an arm. "Accio Ginny's presents!" A large square package and a thin manila envelope flew out of the closest and landed in Harry's outstretched hand.

"C'mere," he motioned to her and patted his lap, indicating where she should sit. She scrambled over the bedclothes and settled herself between his legs. He placed both presents in her lap and pointed to the larger one. "Open that one first."

Ginny reached for the package. "It's heavy." She opened it carefully; wanting to savor the moment she opened her first Christmas present from Harry now that they were a couple. Harry watched her, his chin resting on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist.

The paper fell away and Ginny stared at what was inside. It was a family clock, just like her mum's at the Burrow; only this one just had Harry and Ginny's faces on it with hands that currently pointed to "Home."

"Oh Harry," she breathed. Her fingers traced their names and she felt him kiss her cheek softly.

"Your dad helped me with the charms," he said quietly. "Look, it's got 'The Burrow' on it, and 'Potter Glen' and 'Diagon Alley' and all the other places we might go. Plus a few ambiguous ones," he pointed to the headings 'Do Not Disturb' and 'No Really, I Mean It, Leave Me Alone."

He nuzzled her neck. "I wanted to put a slot for 'Shagging' but I didn't think your Dad would like it."

Ginny laughed. "It's wonderful Harry. Thank you so much." She turned her head and kissed him softly. "Makes me feel right at home."

"Good," he said seriously. "Because it is your home."

She kissed him again. "I know," she said. "And you have made me feel so welcome. I can't wait to hang it up in the kitchen." She frowned. "Well, maybe not. Better put it up somewhere that Dobby actually lets me hang out."

Harry picked up the envelope. "Open this one now."

Ginny looked at him curiously and then slid a nail under the flap. She pulled out a sheaf of documents. "Harry, what on earth…" her voice trailed off as she scanned the parchment, her eyes growing wide as she flipped the pages, reading faster and faster.

"You bought me," she finally choked out, "you bought me an _apartment_ in _Paris_?"

"Well," he shrugged. "I know you missed it and thought you might like it if you had a place to stay there so you could visit whenever you wanted."

"But Harry!" Ginny shrieked. "You bought me an _apartment_ in _Paris_!?"

"Is it okay?" he asked anxiously. "I talked to Fleur about it beforehand. She told me which areas to buy in and even had her mum pop up and take a look at it to make sure it was okay." He picked up the envelope and shook it out. "Look, she took pictures and sent them to me."

Ginny picked up the pictures and leafed through them, barely even registering the hardwood floors, the balconies overlooking one of her favorite sections in Muggle Paris and the large windows that let in the Paris sun. She let the pictures fall back down to her lap and twisted around in Harry's lap to stare at him shining brown eyes.

"You bought me an apartment in Paris," she stated in a low voice, still not quite believing it. He'd had her name put on the deed and everything. She knew he had a lot of money but wow…he'd just bought her a piece of real estate. She knew that section of Paris—it wasn't cheap.

Harry gulped. "Um…yes?" He couldn't be sure if she was happy or upset with him. She looked like she was about to cry but at this point it could go either way.

Ginny launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him so tightly that he saw stars. "I can't believe you," she whispered. She began pressing kisses all over his face, his neck…his ears. "You beautiful…wonderful…incredible man. Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said. "I love you." She perfunctuated each word with a kiss making her way to his mouth until she captured it in a hard fierce kiss. She leaned back. One hand fisted on the front of his t-shirt, the other yanked his shoulders towards her until she was pulling him on top of her, down onto the bed, her legs folded behind her. Harry took a moment to appreciate her flexibility before he lifted himself off her and rested his weight on his arms, gasping for breath.

"You're welcome," he panted. "Guess its okay then?"

She reached up with both hands and grabbed his t-shirt, yanking him down to her and slanting her mouth under his. She kissed him thoroughly, sweeping her tongue into his mouth and exploring every inch of him. Her hands smoothed down his back and slipped underneath the waistband of his pyjama pants to knead his buttocks as she forced him to press closer to her.

"So you like it?" he asked, when he could finally speak. His body was beginning to respond to her enthusiasm.

"I love it," she confirmed. She nudged him with her knees and rolled them over so that she was straddling his waist. "And I love you," she said. She bent down, letting her weight settle on her arms and kissed him softly this time. "That was a wonderful gift," she said between nibbles of his lower lip. "When can we go and visit it?"

"Soon," he promised. "I think we have a function in Paris after the New Year." His hands came up to grip her waist. "Now, where's my present?"

Ginny grinned. "Sure you don't want my complete thank you for my gift?" She wiggled her lower half on his growing erection and leaned down to trace the tip of his ear with her tongue.

Harry groaned softly. "I can't believe I'm about to say this," he said. "But I want my gift first."

Ginny chuckled and sat back up immediately. She slid off him to kneel on the bed. "Congratulations Harry," she said as he sat up with her. "You're a true Weasley now. Presents before shagging. Ron would be proud."

Harry still wasn't sure he'd made the right decision—Ginny looked very shaggable right now with her bed-mussed hair and baggy pyjama pants that had slid down her hips with all the tumbling they'd just done on the bed. Despite the bulkiness of her new Weasley jumper, Harry could see enough of her midriff to remember how it had tasted last night when he'd traced her bellybutton with his tongue.

Thoughts of Ginny's soft skin flew out the window when she suddenly clapped her hands and a large package appeared on the bed in a ball of flame. "How on earth did you do that?" he asked dumbfounded. He had never seen her make things appear out of fire before.

She winked at him. "I'll tell you sometime." She pushed the package towards him on the bed. It was nearly the size of his old school trunk and had been wrapped in green Christmas paper and tied with a red ribbon.

He looked at her sternly. "I hope it's sooner rather than later," he said, before reaching for the present. He ripped the paper off, not bothering to savor the process like Ginny had. Underneath was a wooden chest, made of oak and fastened with several locks along the front and sides. Harry ran his fingers over the carvings on the lid. There was a stag, a lily, a wolf and a dog. "The marauders," he whispered, his finger tracing the stag. "And a lily."

"For your mother," Ginny explained. "Go on, open it."

Harry examined the locks and tried jiggling them but they were solid and he couldn't see a catch. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Just wave your hand over them," she said. "I put a blood ward on it so only you can open it."

Harry lifted his eyebrows at her and waved his hand over the locks. They sprang open immediately. "And where did you get some of my blood?" he asked.

"The other day, when you cut yourself shaving and left the room to get a washcloth; there was blood on the counter and I used it. I hadn't actually planned on setting the blood ward until after you opened it but the opportunity was too good to miss. The whole thing took about 10 seconds."

"I suppose when someone can make things appear and disappear in a ball of fire…" Harry's voice trailed off as he pushed the lid opened and found the entire case contained vials with a swirling grey liquid inside each one. There must have been a hundred of them, packed and suspended in foam trays and labeled with Ginny's neat handwriting. They looked like-

"Memories?" Harry questioned, turning to her. "You gave me a boxful of memories?"

Ginny's hands twisted in her lap and she cleared her throat. "Actually they're mostly memories of your parents," she said, clearly nervous about his reaction. "I had Remus give me several and then he put me in touch with other people who might be willing to donate. I've been working on it for weeks. Look," and she touched several of the vials, "here are some from my parents and McGonagall and Hagrid and well, all the professors at Hogwarts and the old Order. And over here," she indicated with her forefinger, "are memories from people I'd never even heard of but they went to school with your parents. And this bottom tray," she lifted the top two trays off, "are memories about you from me, Ron, Hermione, Neville…well, most of Gryffindor actually…and well…" her voice trailed off when she noticed he was just staring at the box, his expression unreadable.

"Well, I just remembered how you said your pensieve contains all sorts of bad memories and I thought you could use some good ones," she said quietly. She couldn't tell whether he liked the gift or not. He was very still.

Finally he looked at her. His green eyes shone with an intensity she had only seen on special occasions. He reached out with his left hand and grasped both of hers in it. "This is, without a doubt, the most-" he seemed at a loss for words. "The most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me," he finished shakily. "Thank you," he whispered. "I can't even tell you how much." He stopped to run his fingers over the carefully labeled vials and selected one that said "Troll Fight, First Year at Hogwarts, Ronald Weasley."

"This was when we first became friends with Hermione," he said, chuckling at the memory. His hand continued to grasp hers. "I never even thought to put this in there…" his voice trailed off again as he put the vial back. "Which ones are from you," he asked suddenly.

Ginny pointed to a row. "These are all from me," she said softly. "I wanted to put one in there about that duel where we fought the teachers but someone else had already put it in so I tried to stick with things that just happened between the two of us." She pulled one out and handed it to him. "Look, this is my earliest memory of you. It's my mum telling me a story about the Boy-Who-Lived. I ask all sorts of silly questions." She put the vial back. "This is one where Ron and I are playing house as kids and I was the mum and he was the dad only I made him pretend to be Harry Potter. It's hysterical. And this is one where I got in a fight with Madam Pomfrey because she was trying to make me leave the hospital wing after you got injured in Quidditch." She went on, explaining each memory until she got to the last one where she blushed quite spectacularly. "This…er…this is my memory of when we first made love," she said, the tips of her ears quite red. "I debated about whether or not to put it in here but well, it was so special."

Harry grinned and put the vial back in the trunk. "Don't worry, I won't share it with anyone."

Ginny lifted the top two trays back into the chest. "I didn't view any of them," she promised.

"I wouldn't have minded if you had," Harry said honestly. He closed the trunk and levitated it over to the floor, setting it gently by the wardrobe that contained his pensieve. He banished the rest of the presents to a desk in the corner and without warning, reached out and grabbed Ginny by the leg. He pulled her over to him, ignoring her protests and tugged her into his lap.

"You are amazing," he said in a quiet voice. He pinned her down with his gaze and she stopped her struggling, mesmerized by the emotion she saw in his eyes. He bent his head slowly and touched her lips softly with his own. "I love you," he breathed, nibbling at her lips and slowly increasing the pressure until his lips were firmly fastened on hers. He moved his mouth over hers leisurely as if he was savoring her. When she whimpered, wanting him to deepen the kiss, he denied her, instead trailing the kisses over her jaw and down her neck.

"I can't believe you did all that for me," he murmured between kisses. He hugged her tighter and began inching his left hand up the exposed skin on her stomach. Ginny inhaled sharply as he began tracing her ribs. His fingers felt like little sparks of energy dancing on her skin and she wondered, with the part of her brain that was still functioning, whether he was using magic when he touched her.

"I am going to make love to you slowly and very, very thoroughly," he promised in a husky voice. His hand finally reached her bare breast and he palmed it, kneading the flesh reverently. "By the end, you're going to forget everything but my name." He flicked her nipple lightly and a shudder ran through her.

"N…no fair," she said shakily. "That's how I was going to make love to _you_."

Harry pushed her off his lap, laying her out on the bed. He knelt at her feet and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pyjama pants, pulling them down and throwing them from the bed without caring where they landed. He watched as she peeled off her jumper and sleep shirt and tossed them down to join her pants on the floor.

He grinned. "Okay," he said, "we can do it to each other then." He nudged her legs apart with his knees and slid both hands under her bum, lifting her hips off the bed until her entire lower half was suspended in midair at his mercy. He lowered his head to the juncture at her thighs; his eyes glinting dangerously as he looked up at her over the red curls. His tongue darted out and traced an outer lip.

"You first."

It wasn't until much later, when they were all seated around her mother's kitchen table that Ginny _was_ able to process much more than Harry's name. He'd made love to her with his mouth and his hands for what seemed like hours; they hadn't even had time to do him but Ginny was pretty sure she would be able to make it up to him later. He'd told her it was fine but she'd seen him wincing as he eased his zipper up that afternoon when they were getting dressed to go to the Burrow.

In fact…Ginny ducked her head, smiling evilly to herself. She shifted her fork to her other hand and let her right hand fall into her lap so that it was hidden underneath the table. After a few moments, she let the hand rest on Harry's thigh and ran it slowly up over the denim until she reached the top of his thigh.

Harry stiffened when Ginny's fingers began tracing the outline of his cock through his jeans but he was careful to keep his face from betraying his thoughts. He thought he was successful until Ron spoke through his mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Mate, you okay? You look like you're in pain."

Harry let out a breath as Ginny giggled and removed her hand from his crotch. "Fine," he shrugged. "Just uh…really, really full." He looked over to Mrs. Weasley. "Great food Mrs. Weasley."

Molly smiled broadly as the sentiment was echoed by the rest of the family. She had all gone out this year, knowing that it would be the first Christmas her _entire_ family was home in a long time. Even Remus and Tonks had come over to celebrate. She sighed happily.

There was a sudden loud knock at the door and everyone stopped eating to look strangely towards the front of the house. "Who on earth…?" Arthur said, scooting back his chair.

"Stay there Dad, I'll get it, I'm done anyway." Percy stood up and wiped his mouth with his napkin before letting it drop back onto his chair. People began eating again as he disappeared down the hallway. Ginny heard him open the door and greet whoever it was with surprise. She listened intently and her heart sank when she realized whom Percy was leading back into the kitchen.

A tall, imposing man with salt and pepper hair shaped like a lion's mane around his head strode confidently into the room, Percy scowling behind him. It was the Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour. Ginny had only met him once but she was aware that Harry didn't think much of him.

"Arthur!" Scrimgeour's voice filled the entire room, which had quieted considerably. "Molly! So good to see you."

"Minister," Molly stammered. "So nice of you to drop by. Let me get you a seat."

"No need, no need," he said, holding up a hand soothingly. "I just stopped by to drop off an important file Percy here left at the office." He held up the file as if he was offering proof of his reason for visiting. "I knew he would be visiting his family today and thought I'd bring it over." He handed the file to Percy. "You'll need that tomorrow morning for that meeting," he told him.

Percy took the file but he did not look happy about it. Penelope stiffened and Ginny saw her slip her hand into her husband's.

"Harry!" Scrimgeour's eyes widened. "I had no idea you'd be here! What a surprise!"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Minister," he nodded curtly. Ginny could feel the hostility in the room but it was hard pressed to tell exactly where it was coming from. Everyone seemed to bristle as the Minister's attention shifted to Harry.

Scrimgeour didn't seem to notice. "Say Harry," he said with the tone of someone who's just had a brilliant idea, "It's lucky you're here. I've been meaning to speak to you about something. Could we…" he gestured to the living room.

Harry sighed and stood up reluctantly. He squeezed Ginny's shoulder and stepped around Fred and Angelina's boys who had crawled underneath the table when their parents weren't looking, and led the Minister into the living room.

Harry felt like he could have guessed what this conversation would be about. And he would lay money on the idea that Rufus Scrimgeour had purposely dropped by the Burrow because he knew Harry would be there. The file for Percy was just an excuse. Harry felt a bit sorry for Percy who would probably see right through the flimsy excuse and wonder if his own standing at the Ministry was really about his connections or his talent.

"Harry," the Minister said in a practiced grandfatherly-tone, "I wanted to ask you for a favor. I know, I know," he said, holding up a hand even though Harry hadn't protested. "You've done enough for the wizarding world as it is but this is just a small thing really, one could hardly even call it a favor…"

"What is it," Harry asked through gritted teeth. Something about this man just hacked him off. He was…a politician and he made Harry's skin crawl. Harry didn't think he was evil necessarily…just a little too interested in his own agenda. Fudge had been a tool but this guy had shown that while he was nobody's tool, he would sell his own grandmother to Death Eaters if it meant his own agenda would be forwarded.

Scrimgeour smiled at him. It was probably the best smile the man had—reserved for special diplomatic occasions. He'd probably practiced it in the mirror over and over again searching for just the right meaning to convey.

Harry thought it made him look like a lion that'd had too much butterbeer but he didn't say so.

"I don't know if you've heard, but Hogwart's is hosting the TriWizard Tournament this year," the minister began.

"I've heard," Harry interrupted.

"Ah good then, you probably understand what an honor it is to host the tournament again, how hard the Ministry and the Hogwart's staff has worked to make it safe and how eager the students are to participate," Scrimgeour said slyly.

"I'm not sure that I would actually-" Harry said, but he was interrupted.

"And after your success in the last tournament, I know that you, of all people, understand how hard the participants work. It would mean so much to me personally if you would consent to making an appearance. Perhaps a judging opportunity-"

"No thank you," Harry said stiffly. "I've told everyone else who has asked and now, with all due respect, I am telling you." He stepped closer to the Minister, his eyes darkening. "I am not interested in attending the tasks. I do not want to be a judge and I do not support this tournament on principle."

"Harry," the Minister chuckled. "What principle could that be? The principle of a celebration of magic? Of eternal glory?"

"The principle that the last time the tournament was held, Cedric Diggory died and Voldemort returned to power," Harry said shortly.

The Minister's eyes shifted—the first sign that he wasn't as confident as he pretended—and smiled again. This smile was obviously meant to soothe ruffled nerves.

"Harry, Harry," he said. "No one has forgotten Cedric or what happened last time. It's simply time to move on."

"Sorry, Minister," Harry spat out the last word. "It's not as easy for me to forget. I was there you see. It sort of haunts my nightmares you know. And the last thing I'm going to do is waltz back into that tournament as if I support it, as if I support the Ministry's approval of it."

The congenial expression on Scrimgeour's face disappeared and Harry felt like he was looking at the real face of the man. It was hard and grimacing and it was not happy with Harry.

"You are an employee of the Ministry of Magic," Scrimgeour said harshly. "It wouldn't hurt you to be more supportive."

"Why is the Ministry so interested in my presence anyway?" Harry asked, changing tactics. "I find it hard to believe that the success of the tournament hinges on my appearance."

"We have had several parents expressing…er…concern," Scrimgeor sniffed. "It would make people feel better if they knew that Harry Potter was in support of the tournament."

"I see," Harry said, a smile plastered on his face. "Sorry Minister, but I'm not in the habit of lying. I've been accused of being a liar too much to lie for real."

"And what if I told you that your future with the Ministry was in jeopardy unless you attended," he said stiffly.

"I would say that if you want to be known as the Minister who fired Harry Potter then be my guest. But you know what I do for the Ministry and I doubt you'll be able to find someone to replace me."

Scrimgeour titled his head. "And your friends in there?" he hinted. "What about their future?"

"Are you threatening the Weasleys?" Harry demanded. He took a step closer to the Minister; the threat in his own eyes was unmistakable.

Ginny could feel the slow rise in Harry's magic all the way in the kitchen. When it took a sudden spike, she looked up from her plate alarmed.

"What is it Ginny?" Tonks asked sharply.

"It's Harry." Ginny cursed. "He's about to blow his top at the Minister."

"How can you tell that?" Ron asked with his mouth still full but everyone ignored him.

"Can't you sense it?" Ginny asked. She looked at Bill. "Can't you tell the magic in the house has risen?"

Bill nodded slowly. "Kind of," he admitted. "If I concentrate."

"Right Ginny, let's go." Percy stood up and threw his napkin back on the table. He moved towards the living room.

"Percy?" Ginny said blankly. Percy wasn't the charge-in-and-rescue-type.

"Percy, what about-" Penelope began but stopped when she saw the look of resolve on her husband's face.

"I've put up with this long enough Penny," said Percy adamantly. He picked up the folder the Minister had left on the counter. "We all know why he brought this by and it wasn't because he values me as an employee. He's always after Harry. It's the only reason he came by today. He thinks he can use me to get to Harry."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "He's done this before?" she asked her brother sharply.

Percy nodded. "Frequently. Always dropping hints, making excuses to socialize with me. He's always trying to badger Harry into doing something and he uses Harry's feelings for this family against him."

"Right then," Ginny stood up calmly. "Let's go."

"Ginny, maybe you should stay out of this," her mother began.

"I'm the only one who can calm Harry down, Mum," Ginny said. She hesitated. "But maybe I shouldn't go in there as me. Maybe one Weasley is enough."

"What do you mean?" Molly asked cautiously. There was no telling what her daughter would do now.

Ginny shifted into her tiger animagus form, forgetting that, with the exception of Hermione and Tonks, her family did not know she was an animagus. Her mother gave a muffled squeal and Fred's oldest son breathed a "wicked" while several grandchildren reached for their parents.

Thankful their reactions weren't worse; Ginny padded over to her brother and nudged him with her massive head. Percy stumbled and caught himself on the doorjamb. "Ginny?" he said weakly.

The tiger gave a soft roar in answer and slunk around him to enter the hallway to the living room. She looked back over her shoulder at her brother and gave another soft roar, urging him to follow her.

Percy rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm getting too old for this," he mumbled and followed his sister out of the kitchen.

"Mummy!" Percy's son Arthur said with wide eyes. "Aunt Ginny is a tiger!"

The look on Scrimgeour's face when Ginny walked in was something Percy decided he would have paid money if he could see it over and over again. His eyes got wide and he stepped back from Harry, who was currently speaking to him in a hard, low tone, to feel for the wall behind him. He pressed himself against the wall and stared at Ginny.

Harry broke off to watch Ginny enter the room followed by Percy. In her tiger form, Ginny ignored Scrimgeour and stalked over to Harry. She rubbed against his legs and purred loudly, stopping once to growl in the back of her throat in the minister's direction.

"Weasley!" the Minister finally found his voice. "Get that thing out of here!"

"Don't you like my pet?" Harry asked coolly. He reached down a hand and scratched Ginny behind the ears. She purred louder and sat back on her haunches, keeping her gaze fixed on the Minister. Harry was instantly grateful for her presence and for Percy's interference; the knick-knacks in the room had started rattling and he knew he had been close to getting out of hand after the Minister had threatened the Weasleys. Even now he could feel Ginny using her empathic powers to soothe him as she rubbed against his legs.

"Minister," Percy said firmly. "I believe you have overstayed your welcome. You have bothered Harry enough and now it is time for you to leave."

Rufeus Scrimgeour stared at Percy. "Excuse me," he said in a deadly voice. "Are you asking me to leave?"

"No, I'm telling you," Percy said hotly. He walked over to the Minister and shoved the file folder back in his hands. "We both know why you're here and it wasn't to bring me this folder." He put his face close to the Minister's, his ears turning bright red.

"You have abused mine and this family's connections long enough. Harry does not want to be your poster boy and I am no longer interested in working for someone like you." He spat the last word at him.

Harry silently cheered Percy on. It meant a lot to him that Percy, who had once written to Ron urging him to stay away from Harry, was standing up for him now. He had only seen this side of Percy once before and it had been in battle. Ginny, for her part, was amazed. For the first time, Percy was acting like he was Molly Weasley's son.

"I am resigning my position in your cabinet," Percy told Scrimgeour. "Expect my letter of resignation on your desk by tomorrow afternoon." He took a step back and motioned towards the front door.

Scrimgeour pushed himself off from the wall and straightened his robes. He shot a scathing look at Harry and walked stiffly to the front door.

"Oh and Minister," Percy said. "Don't even think about taking out some sort of revenge on my family for this. I've got loads of information about your…um…shall we say, _position_ that I'm sure you wouldn't want other people knowing."

"I don't know what you mean Weasley," Scrimgeour said, his hand poised on the front doorknob.

Percy took a step towards him and said "Myra Lenkins."

The name meant nothing to Harry but it obviously meant something to the Minister. Scrimgeour's face paled and he felt for the doorknob, twisting it and stepping out into the cold December morning. "I'll expect that letter tomorrow." He nodded sharply at Percy, cast one final glare at Harry and ignored Ginny, slamming the door behind him.

Harry let out a breath. "Thanks Percy," he said. "I was about to hurt him."

Ginny shifted back from a tiger and launched herself at her brother. "I'm so proud of you," she said, her arms wrapped around his neck. "That was amazing."

Percy hugged her and set her back down on the ground. "Thanks," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I feel sort of-" he shrugged his shoulders "-light. Free. I just hope there isn't some sort of retaliation."

Harry shrugged. "He seemed pretty upset at that name you mentioned. Who is Myra Lenkins anyway?"

Percy grimaced. "Just someone the Minister doesn't want anyone to know about. He didn't know I knew about it. I've got a lot of other things up my sleeve too if he tries something."

"Percy Weasley!" Ginny was agog. "Are you thinking of 'blackmailing' the minister?" She grinned. "I am so proud of you big brother." She grabbed his face and kissed him full on the lips with a loud smack.

Percy blushed. "Well, it the least I could do. I'm tired of the Minister trying to use you Harry." He squared his shoulders and turned towards the kitchen. "Now, if you'll excuse me-" He took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Harry and Ginny.

"Fred, George," Percy said. "I would like to take you up on your offer. I want to come and work for you."

Silence rang in the kitchen. The entire family had been witness to the twin's frequent badgering of Percy to give up the Ministry and work behind the scenes at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes but only his parent's and his siblings could truly understand how far Percy had come to ask to work for the brother's he had never really taken seriously.

Fred pursed his lips and George crossed his arms over his chest as they both considered their older brother. Finally George slid his wand out of his pocket and flicked it at Percy. There was a puff of blue smoke and when it cleared, Percy's hair had turned bright blue.

"There," Fred said firmly. "Welcome aboard."

Harry sighed in frustration and snapped the heavy tome he'd been reading closed. The sound seemed extremely loud in the library where the only other noise was the crackling fire and the rustle of pages from Ginny who was doing her own share of poring over large books. She frowned at the noise he made as he flopped back on the couch but returned quickly to her reading. She was curled up in a nearby armchair, her legs propped up on the arm and an enormous book on Sumerian runes open on her lap. She seemed to be engrossed in the information and Harry wondered how she could stand it.

He sat up and reached out, snaring her bare foot in his hand and shaking it a little.

"Hmm?"

"C'mon Ginny, we've researched enough for one day. It's nearly dinnertime and I'm starving."

"Okay," she said, still ignoring him. "Let me just finish this chapter."

Harry sighed and, letting go of her foot, stood up and walked over to the library window that overlooked the street in front of Grimmauld Place. It always amazed him that Muggles walked right past his house without even registering that it was there. He'd placed impressive repelling charms on the place and he still got a kick of how their eyes sort of glossed over the townhouse mansion.

They'd been at it all day. The search for Tuelsburg had slowed to a snail's pace. Harry simply didn't know where else to look. Bintliff had told them they were working alone so he was reluctant to pull in any other sources for information. They'd shifted their focus back to the talisman for the time being but they were still no closer to figuring out the strange carvings then when they first stole the bloody thing.

About the only they had been successful in was eliminating possibilities. Ginny had spent hours at the Ministry library methodically searching and could state unequivocally that the markings were not Akkadian, Babylonia, Assyrian, Egyptian, Phoenician, Celtic, Nordic or a number of other cultures whose existence matched the carbon-dating the British Museum had performed on the stone 10 years ago. In fact, the runes didn't match any known wizarding writing.

They were currently going through the Black library and Harry was reluctant to finish. He knew the only place left was the library at Hogwart's and he really didn't want to be seen at Hogwart's until the TriWizard Tournament was over. Sure, he could sneak in using the invisibility cloak but they were talking hours of research here—someone would eventually see him.

Ginny closed her book with a groan and rested her head back on the chair cushion. Harry turned from the window in time to see her rub her eyes with her fists and shake her head a little to clear the cobwebs in her brain.

"I'm going to need glasses if this keeps up," said Ginny, yawning. "That tiny writing is hard on my eyes."

"Finished for the day?"

"I think so," she sighed. "I'm so frustrated Harry. I don't know what to do." She gestured towards the book she'd placed on the table. "I don't think those markings are Sumerian either. In fact, I haven't found one scrap of information that gives me any sort of clue."

She stood up and walked over to join him at the window, leaning into his embrace as he put an arm around her shoulders. "We need fresh eyes," she said wearily. "I'm getting the feeling that we're not looking in the right places."

Harry rubbed his chin on the top of her head, effectively mussing up her ponytail. "Let's take a break for the night yeah? C'mon we'll go get something to eat at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Sure," Ginny agreed. "Just let me go and freshen up." She frowned down at the old t-shirt and shorts she was wearing. "And change clothes. I can't go out looking like this."

"I think you look cute," Harry called as she left the room. He heard her scoff on the stairs and grinned. He loved it when she wore his old clothes.

Thirty minutes later, Harry and Ginny were sharing a cozy table in the corner and a basket of warm chips while they waited for Tom to bring out their food. Harry took a swig of his butterbeer and smacked his lips in satisfaction.

"Needed that," he said.

Ginny smiled but she wasn't really paying attention to him. Her mind was still tossing over the information in the book she'd been reading. There was a glimmer of an idea just at the edge of her brain but she couldn't quite grasp on it to pull it into her consciousness.

"Hey," Harry nudged her hands. "Quit thinking so hard. We'll look some more tomorrow." He reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "Don't worry baby," he said softly. "We'll get it."

Ginny smiled for real this time. She loved it when he called her that. "I love it when you call me that," she sighed dreamily, her eyes turning a soft, chocolate brown. Harry took another swig of butterbeer and was about to reply when her eyes suddenly shifted from the soft brown to nearly gold. The rim that surrounded her pupils had expanded quite suddenly.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"Romilda Vane and a photographer just walked into the pub," Ginny said through gritted teeth. "I don't think she's seen…oh shite, she's just noticed me. She's coming over."

Harry cursed. "Ginny," he said urgently. "We haven't talked about what will happen when the press finds out about us. Reporters are going to be everywhere once they know. They'll be like bloodhounds, they already are."

"I know Harry," Ginny said. She looked at him, determined not to meet Romilda's eyes until she had to. "I thought about it briefly a couple of weeks ago but I'd forgotten that no one outside the family really knows about us. Until now. Once Romilda finds out, she'll tell everyone. She's going to be livid."

"There's going to be all sorts of nasty things about you in the paper," Harry worried. "Maybe we should just get out of here."

Ginny considered the idea but dismissed it. "Might as well get it over with," she sighed. "Unless you don't want people to know about us?" She lifted one finely arched eyebrow at him.

"Not a chance," Harry said firmly. "You're not tripping me up that way. You know I don't care who knows about us. I'm just worried about the media circus that's going to descend."

Ginny winced. "I know. I read about several of your girlfriends when I lived in Paris. Well," she conceded, "the ones that lasted more than one month."

Harry grinned and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. "And you've lasted nearly three so here's hoping." He held up one hand with crossed fingers and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Harry, what a lovely surprise," a sickening sweet voice broke in. "And Ginny Weasley. This is unexpected. I didn't know you were back in England."

Romilda was upon them. Ginny closed her eyes briefly and pasted a fake smile on her face. "Romilda," she said smoothly. "How nice to see you again. Are you doing well?"

Romilda's gaze snapped to where Harry and Ginny's hands were entwined on the table; Ginny imagined her dark eyes (which were sporting entirely too much make-up), were like omnioculars quickly focusing in on one point.

"What's this?" Romilda asked in disbelief. "Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley caught in a lover's embrace in wizarding public?" She looked back and forth between the two of them. "Recycling Harry?"

"We're hardly in an embrace Romilda," Harry snapped. He had a very short fuse where Romilda Vane was concerned. After Rita Skeeter had been forced to resign from the Daily Prophet over a libelous story on the at-the-time, newly appointed Minister of Magic, Romilda Vane had made it her life's work to take up Rita's torch. She harassed Harry every chance she got. Hermione said it was because Harry had never given her the time of day when they were at school.

Romilda snapped her fingers at the photographer hovering nearby who immediately started snapping pictures. She brought out her notebook and feather quill with a flourish. "So you two are dating now?" she asked Harry, completely ignoring Ginny.

"Yes," he said, through gritted teeth. "Now why don't you leave us alone?!"

"And how do you feel about being the latest in a long line of conquests for the Boy-Who-Lived Ginny?" Romilda asked, turning to Ginny. "Does it bother you that he's been with lots of other women, several of whom had more…um…-" her eyes drifted up and down Ginny's figure, "-assets then you?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Ginny said icily. She was seriously close to burning up that quill in Romilda's hand.

"Ginny," Romilda laughed. "Surely you know that Harry Potter has dated some of the most exclusive, most eligible witches in town. Don't you feel just a little competitive about that?"

"Ginny's not competing with anything," Harry barked at Romilda. "I never even met half those witches you write about in that rag of yours."

Romilda batted her eyelashes at Harry. "Why Harry, I always check my facts. Surely you're not accusing me of lying to my readers?" She sauntered closer and eyed him greedily. "However, if you'd like to get together sometime for an exclusive interview to tell me your side of things, I'd could make time for you."

Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry looked disgusted. "No thanks," he said, shuddering just a little. Ginny had to cover her mouth to keep a giggle from escaping. Really, Romilda was just the most unbelievable sort of person…

"I would have thought you would have gotten the hint years ago," she said on a sigh. "Harry's not interested, Romilda."

"Still acting as Harry's watchdog I see," Romilda's face darkened.

Ginny nodded. "Oh yes, otherwise people like you would be all over him. Like a bunch of snakes. I'm sure you know what that's like."

"Well where have you been the last four years then?" Romilda said shrewdly. "The famous Harry Potter and his three famous friends defeat Voldemort and one of them disappears, only to turn up four years later as his girlfriend." She tapped the tip of her quill on the notepad. "Seems like news to me."

Harry slung back the rest of his butterbeer and stood up. "Go away Romilda," he ordered. Shooting a look at her photographer, he said, "And take your teenaged photographer with you."

"Hey," the boy protested, "I'm older than I look!"

Ginny narrowed her eyes and the camera the photographer had used to take several pictures of her and Harry went up in a ball of flames. Romilda's quill and notepad also vanished and she stared in horror as the ashes drifted down to the floor.

"Is that a new type of camera then?" Ginny asked innocently. "One that takes pictures and then explodes?"

Romilda hissed at her and straightened herself up, smoothing down the front of her robes. "I can see you haven't changed a bit," she spat at Ginny. She pivoted around and grabbed the photographer on the arm. "Let's go Bernard."

"Bye Bernard!" Harry waved gaily at their backs. He turned back around to share the laugh with Ginny but was brought up short by the look on her face.

Ginny felt as every molecule in her body had frozen. The idea that had been lurking at the edge of her brain had suddenly bloomed and all her energy was immediately directed to spinning the concept over and over again in her mind.

"Harry," she breathed. "That's it. That's what we've been overlooking!"

Harry sat back down and reached for another chip, resigning himself to discussing this the rest of the evening. "What?"

She looked at him blankly. "Of course, we should have checked that. I don't know why we didn't see it before. I'm such an idiot."

"What are you talking about Nix?" He motioned to Tom for another bottle. "And you're not an idiot," he assured her.

"What he said…Bernard the photographer, I mean…he said 'I'm older than I look.' Do you see?"

Harry just raised dark eyebrows at her. She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder impatiently. "Don't you see? We're relying on the Muggle carbon-dating to tell us how old the talisman is, but what if it's actually older than that? Or even younger? It would mean we've been looking in the completely wrong time periods. Whoever created the necklace was into some pretty advanced magic—they could easily have created something that would be beyond Muggle technology. "

"It's worth looking into," Harry mulled. "But how are we going to test the talisman?"

"Well I don't know but there's got to be some sort of method," Ginny replied. She sat back against the padded booth. "I'm going to ask Hermione," she said firmly. "First thing Monday morning."

"Do you think you can ask without her getting suspicious?"

"Please," Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're talking to the sister of Fred and George Weasley. I can handle Hermione."

"Fine," Harry said. "Now, can we stop talking about this? I want to enjoy a Friday night with my girlfriend."

Ginny tried to glare at him but he looked so needy that she smiled in spite of herself. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I've been pushing us pretty hard these past few days haven't I?"

Harry shrugged. "I've been at a sort of stalemate with the other side of things. Not much else to do really." They stopped talking for a moment as their food was placed in front of them.

"Harry," Ginny said over a mouthful of shepherd's pie. She swallowed and asked, "How long do your…investigations…like this usually take? It's been over a month and we've looked for Tuelsburg everywhere."

"Sometimes they take several weeks; months if there is a lot of planning and politics involved," he said, taking another swig of butterbeer. "Four weeks is nothing."

"I know." She looked down at her plate with a glum expression on her face and pushed her food around with her fork.

"Hey," Harry said softly. He reached out and grabbed her hand. "We'll get it yeah?"

"Yeah."

Harry put down his fork and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Look," he said, putting his elbows on the table. "We're doing everything we can, short of calling in other help on this. You know we have to be discreet. We can't let Tuelsburg, and whoever he's working with, that we're on to them. He probably has a copy of that talisman—and if he knows how it works, then he's going to be way ahead of us."

Ginny put her hands in her lap and rubbed her palms on her thighs. "I know, I know. I just feel so…helpless…like I don't know what's going on. I mean, we're completely in the dark, Harry. We don't even know for sure who Tuelsburg is! And all those people," she swallowed. "All those people that he may have killed. What if he's still killing?"

Harry didn't say what he was really thinking: That if Tuelsburg was killing people using the killing curse, then at least they would have some sort of trail to follow. But that was callous and the thought bothered even him.

"I don't claim to be an expert in this," he said slowly. "I've only been doing this for a couple of years, but truthfully Nix, we've only scratched the surface here. You're absolutely right, we're completely in the dark here and my feeling is that we're still at the beginning of this."

"I'll tell you one thing," he said, now smiling at her. "It's a lot easier and better now that you're here and we're doing this together."

She smiled back. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I guess it must have been pretty lonely doing this type of stuff by yourself."

Harry shook his head. "I've never had a job quite like this one," he said truthfully. "But everything is better now that you're here."

She laced her fingers with his. "I'm sorry I stayed away so long. We've could've had this before."

"Maybe," he conceded. "Who knows what would have happened. If I hadn't been such a paranoid git, we've could have this years ago when we were still at school. On the other hand, maybe this is just our time, the right time." He shrugged his shoulders. "We agreed to stop wasting time wondering about what could have been," he reminded her.

"Well whatever it is, I'm grateful for it," Ginny told him. She sent a surge of magic towards him and he welcomed her with a soft gasp. Their magic merged and Harry suddenly felt all warm inside, as if Ginny's love for him was swimming in his veins.

Harry used his legs to push himself up from the seat and leaned over the table a bit. "C'mere," he said, crooking a finger at her.

Ginny pushed herself up and, leaning on her elbows, met him halfway across the table. They kissed softly. "Is tú mo ghrá," she whispered.

Harry groaned and sat back down. "I wish I knew what you were saying."

"I think you can figure it out a ghrá."

"Yeah, and what does that mean? You call me that all the time. What are you saying?"

Ginny popped a potato in her mouth. "It means 'my love.'"

Harry's brow furrowed. "I thought that was something else. Another word."

"Well, there are several ways to say the same thing. Some are interpretations and some are literal translations and some are a bit of…slang," she explained.

"I see," he said. But he really didn't. He supposed it was a lot like English—all sorts of ways to say the same thing. "Tomorrow's New Year Eve you know, want do you want to do?"

"You mean we're not getting together with Ron and Hermione or Tonks and Lupin?" she asked in surprise.

"Ron and Hermione are going to Seamus' party at the pub his family owns in Ireland," he told her. "And Lupin's got something planned for Tonks." He smirked. "I've been told we're not invited for whatever it is."

"A party?" Ginny's eyes lit up. "Will there be lots of people there from Hogwart's?"

"There usually are. He has this party every year you know. I've got the apparation coordinates somewhere if you want to go."

"Could we?" she asked eagerly. "I'd love to see people again. It's been ages."

"Sure," he said. "Sorry I didn't mention it before. It slipped my mind with all this stuff going on."

"Ooo, I hope Colin will be there! And Demelza, I haven't seen either of them in ages!"

"Colin had a bit of a crush on you didn't he?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He did not. He's gay Harry. He had a crush on _you_!"

"Oh," Harry said. He popped another bite in his mouth. "Guess it's your turn to be jealous then."

Ron Weasley was disgusted. At first he thought he was indifferent, then maybe a little uncomfortable. He'd tried to be stoic, embarrassed, awkward and distressed but he just kept coming back to disgusted.

Because it was truly disgusting the way his sister was mauling his best friend on the dance floor right now. And it was disgusting the way his best friend seemed to be encouraging her; indeed, he had her pressed so tightly against him, Ron was certain that once they turned around, he would see Harry's hands in places he had never wanted to see them—especially not on his baby sister.

Ron yelped and looked away when Ginny titled her head and he distinctly saw her tongue slip into Harry's mouth. "How can you stand it Hermione?" he asked his wife. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Hermione laughed and took another sip of her tea. She'd rather be drinking something more…celebratory. It was New Year's Eve after all. She sighed. Well, she wouldn't be pregnant forever. Her sighed turned into another laugh when Ron stood up and moved to the other side of the table—the one that did not have view of the dance floor. "I think they're a little bit tipsy," she commented.

"Tipsy?" Ron scoffed. "They're pissed. I finally had to tell Seamus to stop giving them firewhisky." His eyes sought out his Irish friend who was making a fool out of himself on the dance floor. "Not sure he listened though. He looks pretty pissed himself."

Hermione's gaze shifted back to her friends who were entwined around each other on the dance floor. The music was a lively Irish tune, it was Ireland after all, but Harry and Ginny were wrapped up in each other, swaying slowly to the music as they were dancing to something they could hear only in their heads. She watched as Harry lifted his head from Ginny's neck and said something directly in her ear that made Ginny laugh and tighten her arms around his neck. Harry straightened up, lifting Ginny with him until her feet left the ground as they continued to dance in slow circles.

"They look so happy together," she said. "I wish they'd been like this all along.."

Ron twisted in his seat to follow his wife's eyes. He ignored the way Harry's hands were stroking up and down the skin exposed by Ginny's backless top and focused instead on the way they both were sort of…glowing.

"Hermione," he frowned. "Do you notice something different about them?"

Hermione sighed and tucked a curl behind her ear. "I think it's their power," she told him. "Usually they keep a lid on letting their power show but I guess when they're inebriated, they forget to control it."

"Do you think anyone else is noticing?" Ron looked around the room, his Auror-trained eyes searching faces rapidly. Everyone seemed to be focused on their drinks or each other and hadn't noticed the slightly glowing couple on the dance floor.

"C'mon," Hermione said, pushing back her chair. "Let's go get them. You'll have to do a sobering charm on them so they can control themselves."

Harry was just in the middle of trying to force his fuzzy brain to work out how he could get at least one of his hands up the front of Ginny's slinky, glittering top to cup what he was reasonably sure was a braless breast (because where would she have put in a shirt that had only one string for a back?) when Ron tapped him on the shoulder and led him scowling back to the table.

"What'd you do that for mate?" he groaned. "I was just about to figure it out."

Ron decided not to ask and pulled out his wand to cast the sobering charm. Harry's brain immediately cleared and he shook his head. Ron moved on to Ginny.

Hermione sat back down in satisfaction as she looked back and forth between the two. "That's much better," she declared.

"What's better?" Ginny asked. She sat down in Ron's chair with a thump and rubbed her temples. "I've a headache. I think I felt better drunk."

"You guys were starting to glow," Ron said shortly. "We thought we'd get you out of there before someone else noticed. Besides," and he shuddered, "I couldn't take much more of your version of dancing. I don't ever want to see that again, mate."

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. The sobering charm had lifted the buzz he'd been feeling but he still recalled with startling clarity the way he and Ginny had been groping each other on the dance floor. He had the grace to be a little embarrassed but it did nothing to relieve the tension in his trousers.

"It's almost midnight anyway," Hermione pointed out. "Lavender's passing out horns and hats."

Ginny reached for Harry's thigh and squeezed gently. She was, to put it plainly, incredibly randy. She'd been having a wonderful time at the party catching up with old friends and dancing outrageously with Harry and her old dormmates. They'd drunk way too much and for the past hour, she and Harry had been in their own little world, swaying on the dance floor and winding each other up. She'd felt his arousal pressed against her belly and she could tell by his darkened eyes that he hadn't forgotten all the lewd promises she'd been whispering in his ear.

He sighed and squeezed her upper arm. Lavender had reached their table by then and the four of them took the horns and hats with concealed reluctance. Seamus and Lavender had been dating steadily since Hogwart's and Seamus had confessed to them that he planned to ask her to marry him when it turned midnight. So who were they to spoil her special night by leaving early just so they could shag?

The countdown began and caught on until everyone was shouting the numbers down from 5…4…3…2…1! Cheers erupted and the band struck up a tune while partygoers blew their horns and exchanged kisses. Harry caught Ginny around the waist and lowered his head to hers, capturing her mouth in a kiss that seared straight through her, curling her toes inside her high-heeled shoes.

"That's quite a New Year's kiss," she panted, clinging to him when he'd finished. "It's a whole New Year," he said, moving his mouth to her ear. "I wanted to start it out right." His teeth closed down on one lope and nibbled gently.

"Harry," Ginny gave a soft gasp. She heard a squeal behind her and a loudly shouted "Yes!" and knew that Seamus had just popped the question to Lavender. Great. They could finally leave. "Let's grab our coats," she urged, just Harry's mouth slid down the side of her neck. "C'mon Potter, take me home."

Harry lifted his head and stood up, shoving his chair back. He was back in a minute, Ginny's black pea coat and his leather jacket grasped in his hands. He helped Ginny into her coat quickly and said a hurried goodbye to Ron and Hermione before wrapping his arms around his girlfriend and apparating them both away with a soft pop.

"See," Ron made a noise in the back of his throat. "Disgusting."

Hermione put her hand on her husband's arm. "Be happy for them," she said. "Remember what we were like when we first fell in love?"

Ron DID in fact remember but it was different to think about his best friend and his sister doing those things. "I am happy for them," he said. "Ecstatically, disgustingly happy for them. But I can't help it Hermione. Weasley's are a randy bunch and that's great for me, but it's just plain disgusting to think about your own sister-" he shuddered again and Hermione laughed at him…again.

"Well, luckily I've got my own randy Weasley," Hermione stated. She stood up and tugged on his arm. "C'mon Weasley, take me home," she said, repeating Ginny's words.

Ron perked up when he saw a familiar glint in his wife's eyes. Thoughts of Ginny and Harry writhing against each other on the dance floor flew out of brain and he hurried, almost as fast as Harry had, to get their coats. Unlike Harry, he didn't stop to help Hermione get her coat on before he ushered her towards the floo.

Harry and Ginny appeared back in their bedroom and before she knew what was happening, Harry had whipped her coat off and tossed her onto the bed.

"Are you ready for me Nix?" he demanded, his hands shoving off his trousers. "Tell me you're ready for me."

"Gods yes," Ginny panted. She lay back on the bed and unfastened her pants, lifting up her hips as she shimmied them down her legs. Her shoes had long ago dropped to the floor and she kicked the silky pants off. "I am always ready for you."

Her hands went to the strings that tied her silver top around her back and tugged at them, wishing she was already naked. From the looks of things, Harry wouldn't be clothed much longer and she wanted to feel every inch of her skin pressed against him as he took her. She doubted he would wait for her to finish undressing, he looked that ready. His eyes were glittering, watching as she exposed herself to him, even while he made efficient work of his own clothing.

Eventually lust won out and Harry reached out and helped her. He almost ripped her underwear in his haste to get it off of her. He crawled over her and lowered his weight onto her body. Whenhe bent to kiss her, Harry shuddered in pleasure as she kissed him in return, her head falling back against the mattress to allow him better access. When his tongue entered her mouth again she caught it and sucked it delicately, a low hum of pleasure rising from her chest. Ginny placed her hands on his shoulders and spread her legs, rocking her pelvis against him. He could feel her wet curls brush against his cock and he groaned, pushing himself up so that he was kneeling over her. His hands slid down her sides and he grasped her arse in both hands and lifted her, positioning himself at her entrance.

"Do it," he whispered against her throat. "Take me inside-" He broke off and cursed as something tight and wet closed over the tip of his shaft, sliding slowly up as she wound her legs around his waist. Bloody hell, she was tight and hot. How could she be that hot and not burn up on the inside? Harry arched his hips and worked his cock deeper inside her.

Opening his eyes, he stared into her lovely face, watching as she let go of the control on her magic and light rushed over her skin and into him as they merged their magic. Harry kept his grip on her bum and Ginny's breasts pushed against his chest as he slid the rest of the way inside her. She gripped him with her muscles and began moving her hips, towards him and away from him forcing him to slide in and out of her.

"Move Harry," she moaned. "Please." She lifted her head and kissed him softly before arching her torso, her breasts lifting up as her head hit the mattress.

"So beautiful," he mumbled. He leaned forward to take a rosy-pink nipple in his mouth as he dug his cock inside her.

"Harry…oh, hell. Harry, please, please, please."

He bit down gently on her nipple and drove inside her harder, riding her, loving the moans and the sounds she was making for him. At the touch of his teeth closing on her flesh, she started to shudder and clamp down around his cock, her hot, wet tissues gripping him in a silken, steel caress that sent him tumbling over the edge. He spilled into her just as her climax gushed over him through their magical connection. The endless loop of pleasure between them drove Harry just a little more insane and the golden aura sprang into being, even as he decided he wasn't quite finished with her yet.

"Love you," she breathed, as he collapsed on top of her. Ginny felt his tongue trace a bead of sweat on her neck and she shifted underneath him, trying to get her hips closer to his. She needed him again. She could see and feel the gold aura moving over them and when she reached out a hand to touch it, pleasure sizzled down her arm.

Harry chuckled huskily into her skin when he sensed the desire still inside of her. "Don't worry, Nix," he said. "We're not finished here." He pressed his hips, still nestled between her thighs, into hers and Ginny gasped when she felt his erection spring back to life inside her.

"Again," he whispered, his hips already starting to move. "And again, and again, until we can only breathe each other. Until the only thing that's left is our magic."

Ginny's knew he couldn't understand the Gaelic words coming out of her mouth, but she knew he got the gist of things when she tightened her legs around him and offered herself up again to the only man she had ever loved.


	16. Chapter 16 The Genius of Ginny Weasley

There were exactly three truly great moments in Ginny Weasley's life. She had a strict ruler by which she measured such things. A great moment was different from a memorable moment—for example, being possessed by a 16-year-old version of Voldemort was certainly memorable but not exactly great.

Ginny considered great moments to be life-changing and life-defining (in a good way). The most recent had occurred, not when she and Harry had finally decided to be together, but the night before, when she had lain in her childhood bed, Harry's journal clasped to her chest, and admitted that she had never stopped loving him. Opening her heart again to love Harry had taken an incredible amount of courage.

The first great moment had occurred when, at the age of six, she had successfully snuck out of the house in the dead of the night, figured out how to break the lock on the shed in the back yard and taught herself to fly on her brother's brooms. It wasn't the physical act of sneaking around that was the great part; rather it was the moment she became airborne and realised that she was her own person and she could be anything she wanted to be. Not even her family could stop her from achieving her dreams.

The second great moment was the moment she had decided to accept her power. It had been her fifth year at Hogwarts and Harry had cared enough to confront her about the power he sensed was welling up inside of her. She had felt it, of course she had felt it. How could she not? Something had been growing inside of her for months and Ginny had felt stretched. All her energy had gone towards controlling something that felt like it was going to rip her apart and she had been so scared… Even when Harry had dragged her to Professors McGonagall and Lupin, she had been so frightened of not being able to control the power. She was afraid it was going to explode out of her and then Ginny-Weasley-as-she-knew-it would cease to exist. The great moment came with the first few minutes of tenuous control. She remembered the exact instance when she had welcomed the power, when she accepted it as a part of herself. The power had swelled up inside of her like a song and burst out of her, sliding over her skin until Ginny could feel every pore as if it was alive; every inch of her body humming. She'd lifted up her arm and gazed at her hand in wonder, amazed at the light that seemed to shine out of her. She felt like she had finally known what it was to be _alive_.

Today could very well be another truly great moment. Today was the day she would pull one over Hermione Granger—smartest witch ever.

She needed information but Hermione could not know what she was after. She had to be subtle, she had to be sneaky and she had to pretend like she wasn't interested in any information at all.

Which was exactly where Tonks came in. Ginny glanced at her pink-haired friend out of the corner of her eye. Tonks had no idea she was going to be used to filter information from Hermione today. She was tricking both of them.

The plan was so elaborate that it was really quite simple but it required exact timing. Hermione couldn't know she was being pumped for information so she had to nudge Tonks into asking the actual questions.

"What the hell are we doing here?" Tonks asked. She stopped walking abruptly to stare at the limestone building in front of them. "I thought we were going shopping Ginny."

"Ginny," said Hermione, wrinkling her nose. "What are we doing at the British Museum?"

Ginny stopped walking and adopted an innocent expression. "I mentioned it to you yesterday, remember 'Mione? They've got this exhibit on rare books I thought you'd be interested in."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, I'd forgotten! Thanks Ginny. I read about it in the newspaper but couldn't talk Ron into coming with me." She quickened her pace as much as a six-month pregnant woman could.

Tonks nudged Ginny with her elbow to get her attention. "Couldn't have saved this for another day? Like when I'm working or lying in hospital somewhere?"

Ginny grinned broadly. "Never hurts to broaden your mind." She nodded towards Hermione who was walking slightly in front of them. "She's not been getting out much you know, since the Ministry made her take maternity-leave. Ron's been busy organizing security at Hogwarts for that damn tournament and she's stuck at home a lot."

Tonks frowned in concern. "Guess we should have done this earlier then huh?"

Ginny shrugged. "Not much we can do when we have to work too," she said. "But I thought we should do something special today to make up for it."

"Okay," Tonks sighed. "But you're buying lunch."

"Deal," Ginny grinned.

The exhibit turned out to be rather interesting. Hermione lingered with an almost reverent look on her face. She reached out her hand several times as if she wanted to touch something but the surly-faced security guard's presence in the corner seemed to remind her to keep her hands to herself.

Ginny's plan was right on track but it took a giant leap forward when Tonks noticed the large skeletons in the Dinosaur room.

"Blimey, look at that!" She stopped in front the largest dinosaur skeleton and stared up in awe. "What is it Hermione?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, don't you read anything? It's a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Or a skeleton of one anyway." She lowered her voice. "The muggles look for the bones you know and they dig them up and reassemble them."

"It's huge," Tonks said. "It's the size of a dragon."

Ginny, walked over to the information plaque about the dinosaur on the wall. "It says here that it's thousands of years old. I wonder how they know that?"

Tonks scoffed. "What would muggles-"

"Sshhh!" Hermione said, scowling at her.

"Sorry," said Tonks, lowering her voice. "But how do muggles know a thing like that?" She walked over to read the plague with Ginny.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "They use carbon-dating Tonks. They take a tiny sample of the bone and use computers and stuff to get an estimate on how old the bone is."

Ginny furrowed her brow. "But how do they know they're right? I mean, how accurate could that be?"

"It just is," said Hermione dismissively. "It's all very scientific."

"Bet the wizard-way is better," Ginny said under her breath. She was careful to say it loud enough so that Tonks was sure to hear her but soft enough so that Hermione wouldn't.

Tonks grinned at her. "Better not let Granger hear you say that," she said out of the corner of her mouth.

"What? Not let me hear what?" asked Hermione, turning from the skeleton.

Ginny elbowed Tonks in the ribs. "Ow! Ginny! Nothing, we were just wondering what the wizard-method was."

Hermione looked at her in confusion. "The wizard-method for what?"

It was Tonks' turn to roll her eyes. "Honestly Granger, don't you read anything? Surely there is a magical way to date, you know-" she waved her hand at the dinosaur skeleton, "-bones and things."

"Oh!" Hermione's expression cleared and Ginny saw a familiar glint appear in her eye. Her friend was gearing up for a lecture. Ginny casually stuck her hand in her pocket and grasped her wand. She said a non-verbal recording charm in her head and took her hand back out.

"Well there is a potion," Hermione was explaining to Tonks, whose eyes were starting to look a little dazed. "It was developed in 1531 by Ulfric the Great because he wanted to know-"

Ginny tried to listen intently to Hermione's instructions without acting like she was. The potion seemed simple enough except, she winced inwardly, it required dragon scales and veela hair. Those weren't easy to come by. She'd have to make a trip to see Fred and George. Great, more questions to evade. Maybe she could sneak in…no, probably not a good idea, the twins had all sorts of protections in place to protect their supplies and stock. On the other hand, an evil smile appeared on her face, it would be great fun to get past their wards and leave a message so they'd know _she'd_ been able to get past the safety precautions they kept boasting about.

"Ginny, are you listening to me?" asked Hermione sharply.

"Sorry," Ginny started. "Yes, of course. Please continue. A potion you say?"

Hermione glared at her but picked the lecture pack up without missing a beat. "Anyway, you just have to put a drop of the potion on the object and inhale the vapors to discover the age of an object."

Tonks frowned at her. "Inhale the vapors? What does that mean? Does a date appear in just mid-air or something?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. I've never tried it. But I've read that the potion creates some sort of mind-meld with the object."

"That doesn't sound too pleasant," Ginny said. "What if you were trying to find out the date of a sword or something? Would you relive all the times it killed someone?"

"I honestly don't know," Hermione said. "It doesn't sound like much fun though." She rubbed a hand on her swollen belly. "Can we go eat now? I'm starving."

Tonks laughed and hooked elbows with Hermione to lead her out of the room. "Sorry, your lectures are just _so_ fascinating Hermione. You know how I can be, I just get all caught up in knowledge."

"You did ask," Hermione said icily.

Tonks sobered up immediately. "You're right. Sorry."

Ginny nudged her. "Stop arguing with the hungry pregnant woman." Hermione's temper had been short enough before she stopped working. Now that she was staying home all the time, she was bored to tears and it made her really grumpy. Ginny wondered if she could find a project for her…she made a mental note to ask Harry about it this evening.

Tonks led them out of the museum and down a few blocks to a muggle restaurant she'd said was nearby. They'd just been seated when Tonks opened her menu and said casually, "All right Ginny, spill it. How's the sex with Harry?"

Ginny choked on the sip of water she'd just been drinking. "What?" she spluttered. She put down the glass and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I'm not telling you that!"

Hermione put down her own menu and fixed a stern gaze on her from across the booth. "Oh yes you are. We've told you all about our sex lives. It's your turn." Tonks nodded furiously in agreement.

"But I didn't want to know about all that!" Ginny protested. "I never asked. You both kept talking and wouldn't shut up!"

"You still know," Tonks pointed out. "We're your best friends, you're supposed to tell us. It's written down somewhere."

Ginny shook her head. "Harry would never forgive me if I told you that. I'm not telling you anything."

"Bet he's told his blokes," Tonks said. "They talk about sex all the time you know."

Ginny looked at her exasperatedly. "And who are Harry's blokes? My brothers! Like he's going to talk to them about our sex life!"

Hermione shrugged. "You never know. Besides, he's got other friends. Neville, Seamus, Dean…"

"Yeah like Harry is going to talk about our sex life with an ex-boyfriend of mine," Ginny scoffed. She opened her menu and searched the selections, determined to ignore her friends.

"C'mon on Ginny," Tonks urged. She put down her menu and crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Was it good? Is he good? 'Cause he looks like he would be good."

Hermione nodded in agreement while Ginny looked at them in disbelief over the top of her menu. "I don't believe you two! Tonks that is your godson you're talking about; and Hermione, you're like his sister. Isn't this just a bit incestuous?"

Hermione waved her hand, brushing aside Ginny's comments. "Don't be ridiculous. We're not fantasizing about him or anything. That would be," her nose wrinkled, "disgusting. We just want to know how it's going."

"Well it's _going_ just fine," said Ginny crossly. She looked back down at her menu in a clear indication of dismissal.

Tonks sighed and looked at Hermione. "Guess we're going to have pull out the big guns," she said dramatically. "It's probably going to get pretty ugly but she's left us with no choice."

Hermione grinned and shifted a little so that she was facing Tonks on the seat. "You know, the first time Ron and I made love, I was really sore for hours afterwards." She put a hand over her mouth and gave a most un-Hermione-like giggle. "He was very…enthusiastic you know." She waggled her eyebrows. "Still is actually."

Tonks looked down at Hermione's stomach. "Can you guys still do it even though you're pregnant? That must get a little uncomfortable."

Hermione giggled again. "Well, there are other positions that are necessary of course. We've tried most of them. I read about it in this book-" she glanced slyly across the table when she heard Ginny scoff behind her menu.

"Well the first time Remus and I did it, it was better than anything I could have dreamed up. We're weren't virgins or anything but it was very passionate. The tension had been building between us for months and well then one day…it just got to be too much." She sighed dreamily. "He took me on the countertop at Grimmauld Place. I blushed every time I went into the kitchen after that."

Ginny shuddered behind her menu, thankful for once that Dobby kept her out of the kitchen at the house most of the time.

"You know Ron does this thing with hips-" Hermione began.

"That thing where they sort of swirl around and then thrust?" Tonks interrupted.

"Yes!" Hermione said delightedly. "Does Remus do that?"

Tonks laughed. "Are you kidding? Remus invented that move!"

"Well Ron also does this thing with his fingers that I swear one of his brothers taught him because there is no way he could have learned it on his own. It drives me absolutely crazy," said Hermione in a low voice.

"What does he do? Wait, let me get a napkin and take notes." Tonks reached forward and grabbed a paper napkin while Hermione fished in her purse for a Muggle pen.

"Okay, shoot. And be very detailed. Remus will probably have questions."

"Well, he takes his thumb and slides it down-"

"Okay! Okay!" Ginny said, slamming her menu down on the table. "You win. I'll talk." She shuddered again. "Just please no more. I can't take it."

Hermione and Tonks shifted quickly back to face her, broad grins on both their faces.

Ginny put her face in her hands. "I hate you both," she grumbled.

"Of course you do," Tonks said jovially. "Now talk."

Ginny lowered her hands and stared at the eager look on both her friends' faces. She tried to hold back a smile but couldn't control herself and burst out in laughter. "You guys are ridiculous."

Hermione made a rolling motion with her hand as if to say "hurry up " and Ginny sighed. "All right. Well," she cleared her throat, "it's really um…fantastic actually. Harry is very…er…attentive and-bugger it! I can't talk to you both about this when you've got those silly looks on your faces!"

"What silly looks?" Hermione looked at Tonks. "Do we have silly looks on our faces?"

"I was trying to be very serious," Tonks said solemnly. "I mean this is important information. The boy-who-lived finally getting laid? That's big news."

Hermione's mouth twitched. "Have you noticed how he's been less tense lately? It's like something has been released inside of him."

Tonks lifted an eyebrow at Hermione's innuendo. "Something massive I'd say then. Like an explosion almost."

"Stop it!" Ginny pleaded. "I'll talk, I'll talk. Just…don't look so eager. It's weird."

She sighed and sat back against her seat. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket and looked at her friends. "It feels weird to talk about it," she said finally.

"Why?"

"Because," Ginny struggled to explain, "okay, you know how we share magic right?" They nodded. "Well, when we're together, you know, that way, we share magic and it um…makes the experience very intense."

"You share magic during sex?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Yes, but it doesn't get out of control or anything. Well," she conceded, "not very often anyway. Since we've learned to control the power when we merge there aren't any earthquakes or towering infernos."

"What does that feel like?" Tonks asked. "Sharing magic during sex I mean?"

Ginny shivered. "It's hard to describe and since I've only had sex with Harry I've nothing to compare it too but," she shivered again, "it's beyond anything I think you could imagine."

"Explain," Hermione ordered.

Ginny ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I don't really know how…okay, it's like, when Harry and I connect our magic, it forms this sort of loop between us. Sometimes I can close my eyes and sort of see the threads that connect us, you know?"

"No, but go on," Tonks said.

"Well, the loop, it allows us to transfer our emotions and feelings between each other and so when we're having sex and we're merged, it transfers the pleasure." She looked at her friends anxiously and tried to stop blushing. "Does that make sense?"

"So you can feel what he is feeling and he can feel what you're feeling during sex?" Hermione asked. Her eyes had narrowed into tiny slits. Ginny could almost see the wheels in her head turning.

Ginny nodded. "It's like a…a cycle of pleasure or something." She leaned forward so she could talk in a low voice. "I can feel what it feels like for him to be inside of me and at the same time I'm enjoying my own pleasure. Do you see what I mean? It's like double the pleasure."

"Wicked," Tonks breathed. "Is it wrong for me to be jealous of you right now?"

Ginny smiled, despite the blush she could feel spreading up to her cheeks. "Yes."

"So why is it weird for you to talk about it?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shifted. "It just feels uncomfortable. Like I'm betraying a secret or something. Plus it's different and well, a little hard to explain."

Tonks shuddered. "I think you did a fine job of explaining. I'm not sure how you stay conscious during it actually."

"Me either," Ginny murmured. "We don't merge every time of course. So it doesn't happen all the time."

"Why don't you merge all the time?" Hermione fingers twitched towards the pen she'd left on the table but she left them alone.

The blush on Ginny's face was in full bloom now. "Well, sometimes, we're a bit eager you know. There's not always time for it. Plus it's pretty damn good even without the merging."

"How often are you guys having sex anyway?" asked Tonks.

Ginny ducked her head and mumbled something. "Sorry," Tonks said, cupping a hand around her ear. "Didn't quite catch that."

Ginny huffed and lifted her head. "I said at least twice a day."

"At least!" Hermione shrieked. She blushed when several patrons looked at her. "At least?" she whispered, looking back at Ginny. "Twice a day? You mean sometimes you do it more than twice a day?"

"We've only been together a few months," Ginny defended. "It's still new to us."

"But still," said Hermione, clearly awed. "That's some stamina."

Tonks elbowed her gently in the ribs. "Well he's been saving it up, hasn't he. Poor bloke. He's got years to make up for."

"But when do you find time for it all?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"Well, we usually do it in the morning, you know when we wake up-" Ginny shivered when she remembered how Harry had woken her up _this_ morning. "And then at night when we go to bed. I don't know Hermione; we don't have a schedule! We just do it when we feel like it."

"Horny little toads," said Tonks affectionately.

"Are we done now? Have you heard enough?"

Hermione's eyes suddenly twinkled. "No, but we can save it for another day."

"Just answer one more question," Tonks said. She lowered her voice. "Is it true—what they say about powerful wizards?"

"What do they say?"

"You know, the more powerful the wizard, the bigger his-" Tonks broke off and waggled her eyebrows at Ginny.

Ginny balled up a napkin and threw at her friend. "You have no shame."

Hermione snickered but Ginny was saved from having to answer the question by the waitress who had finally made it over to the table to take their orders.

"Let's see," said Ginny when it was her turn to order. She opened her menu. "I'll have the um…_footlong_ sausage roll with extra relish, an _extra-large_ order of crisps, and a _giant_ milkshake." She closed her menu and handed it to the waitress.

The server, who was either pretending not to notice the other two people in the booth who had suddenly erupted into giggles, or didn't care, stopped writing on her pad and looked up at Ginny. "What flavor of milkshake?"

"Vanilla," Ginny answered. "And I'd like that _extra-thick_ please."

A few hours later, Ginny said goodbye to her friends outside the Leaky Cauldron in Muggle London. Tonks and Hermione had decided to continue shopping but she had begged off, saying she had promised to pick something up for Harry in Diagon Alley. She stepped inside and waved at Tom, the barkeep, as she walked to the back door. She stood outside the hidden brick entrance to Diagon Alley and checked to make sure she was alone before snapping her fingers, sending her shopping bags back to Grimmauld Place in a ball of fire. She waved her hand and the brick wall opened up to reveal the only full-wizarding area in London.

Ginny shouldered her way through the crowds until she arrived at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. She rolled her eyes at the window display that featured an incredible likeness of the Minister of Magic whose hair was being repeatedly set on fire after swallowing their latest advertised creation—"Ginny's Fireballs."

"Oi!" Ginny announced as she stepped in the shop. "I ought to sue you for using my name without my permission! Where's my royalties?"

Fred looked up from the register where he was sorting galleons. A delighted smile spread over his face. "Ginners! What are you doing here? Come to get some stuff to prank your significant other? Sorry, no can do. We don't prank our financial backers. It's our only sacred business rule."

Ginny laughed and hopped up on the counter next to the register. Fred thrust his cheek towards her and she kissed it.

"Git," she said fondly. "I don't need your products to prank Harry. I've got my own methods of making him suffer."

Fred shuddered. "Enough said. I don't want to hear another word." He scooped up the galleons and dumped them into a purple bag on the counter labeled "Gringott's Bank."

"Georgie!" he called over his shoulder. "It's your turn to take the deposit. And we've got company!"

"Make Percy do it!" the reply came from the back room. "He's still on his first 90 days of employee probation!"

Ginny heard an indignant shout from the back room and there was slight scuffle before George emerged, his face flushed and grinning. "Okay, I'll take it." His eyes landed on Ginny and lit up. "Munchkin! To what do we owe this honor?" He took Ginny's hand and kissed the back of it. She giggled.

"What's a 90-day probation?" she asked. She laced her fingers through George's and smiled inwardly when his thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of her hand.

"It means," George began loudly and shouting in the general direction of the back room, "that if Percy steps one toe out of line, we can fire him. He has to prove himself a worthy employee." He stopped shouting and smiled at his sister. "Standard business practices."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "How's he been taking that?"

"Not well. Penny actually sent us a howler when he went home with wings on his back last Tuesday."

"Guys, don't make it too difficult for him," Ginny said, suddenly serious. "You know how hard it was for him to ask you for this."

George squeezed her hand and let go. "It's just a little fun," he assured her. "The wings went away in an hour."

"Don't worry," Fred said. "We've got a schedule mapped out. We're pacing ourselves. We figure, we need him too so we don't want to drive him off."

"Just torture him a little bit, then?"

"Yeah." Fred grinned at his brother. "We've got our reputation to uphold."

Ginny laughed. Perhaps she would offer to help Percy get back at the twins after his 90 days were up.

"Nevermind George, I'll take that deposit. I want to see the Goblin's records for the last six months, there's no way I can make sense of the mess you've got back here." Percy emerged from the back room, wrapping a scarf around his neck. He smiled when he saw his sister.

"Ginny!" He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"A little business actually," Ginny told him.

Percy just lifted his eyebrows at her. "Hmm…well, I'd love to stay and chat but I've really got to get to the bank before they close. It's a nightmare back there." He motioned towards the back room that presumably held WWW's records and shuddered while he picked up the purple bag from the counter.

"We saved it all for you!" George called after him. He snickered when Percy made a rude gesture behind his back before he stepped out the door.

Ginny turned back to face her brothers. "He looks good," she commented. She smiled at Fred and George. "You guys really came through for him. I really think it's made a difference," she said earnestly.

Fred shrugged and closed the register drawer. "He's actually been a big help. He's discovered a better way to organize our stock and projections indicate that he is going to save us some galleons after he's done with our books."

He slung an arm over Ginny's shoulders. "So, what's this business you've come for?"

"I need some ingredients for a potion," Ginny said bluntly.

George shrugged. "Why not just go to the apothecary down the street? I'm sure Archie-"

"These aren't the kinds of ingredients I can get there," Ginny interrupted. "And I don't fancy going into Knockturn Alley."

George raised his eyebrows. "I see. Let's go in the back. Fred, lock the door."

"Right," Fred said. He waved his wand at the door and the door clicked shut.

George led them into the back room and over to a thick metal door that reminded Ginny of the vault doors at Gringott's Bank. "Cover your eyes Ginny," he commanded. "And no peeking."

Ginny rolled her eyes but did what he asked. "Honestly, it's not like I'm going to steal anything from you." She heard some clicks and the distinct swish and flick of a wand.

"It's the principle of the thing," Fred told her. "Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Ginny took her hand away. The door had been opened but all she could see were stone steps descending into darkness. They must lead to the twins' infamous basement laboratory. Only Fred and George had ever been in it.

"What do you need?" George asked. "I'll go and get it."

"I need three dragon scales and two veela hairs," she said honestly. "Are you sure you have it?"

"Please," Fred scoffed. "We're better stocked than the apothecary in Knockturn Alley."

George descended into the basement and Ginny saw a several flashes of light that momentarily lit up the stairwell. She wondered exactly what sort of precautions her brothers were using on their lab.

"Okay, what gives," Fred demanded as soon as George had disappeared. "What are you working on?"

Ginny considered giving him a wide-eyed innocent look but she'd already admitted to needing nefarious potion ingredients. She'd doubt he'd fall for anything at this point.

Instead she sighed and willed him to see the honesty in her eyes. "I really can't tell you Fred. I would if I could but it's for work and well-"

"Say no more," Fred interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "The less I know the better. As long as you're not doing anything dangerous. You know the combination of those ingredients can be really-"

"I know," she said. "I'll be careful, promise. And Harry will be there."

Fred scoffed. "I'm not sure Potter will be any help when it comes to potions. Not without Hermione there anyway."

"We'll be fine," she assured him. "Don't worry."

"Okay," he shrugged. "If you say so." He eyed her shrewdly. "So how's it going with boy-wonder anyway?"

Ginny felt her face soften. "It's spectacular. I never knew it could be so-" she shrugged and looked at him helplessly. She didn't have the words to describe what it felt like to be with Harry.

"I get it," Fred smiled at her. It was a gentle smile and not one she was used to seeing on his face. "You're not the first person to fall in love you know."

"Yeah. But Harry's the only one I've ever…and now it's happened and it just seems so…like I'm going to wake up one day and it'll just be a dream."

Fred smiled the gentle smile again and put his arms around her, drawing her close and resting his chin on top of her head. "I really am happy for you midget. I meant to tell you sooner but hadn't gotten the chance." He gripped her tighter. "But if he hurts you again I swear on Auntie Muriel's grave that I will hunt him down and-"

"Fred!" Ginny laughed. "Stop! We're going to be fine. Harry's not going to do a runner or anything." She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed her older brother, happy for this all-too seldom moment of affection. "There's going to be times when we fight and hurt each other, I'm sure. But we're in this for the long haul. I trust him completely."

"Okay," Fred grumped. "But just remember the rule we have about not pranking financial-backers is superseded by the rule about wreaking vengeance upon anyone who hurts our baby sister."

Ginny stepped back and scowled at him. "I am not a baby and you know it." She held up a hand and let the fire inside of her sweep down her arm and dance on her fingers. "I can kick your arse and you know it."

Fred looked at her hand in amusement. "How _do_ you do that? I wish I was as cool as you."

Ginny tapped him on the nose with one finger and he yelped, jerking his head back out of her reach.

"Calm down you big sissy," Ginny said playfully. "It won't hurt you."

"You just keep your fire fingers away from me," he ordered. His eyes lit up. "Hey! Fire-fingers! What a great idea..." his voice trailed off and he stared off into space.

Ginny snapped her fingers, which were still sparking with flames, in front of his face and he started. When his eyes finally focused on her, a huge grin spread over his face. "I think we are going to have to dedicate a whole line of products to you. Ginny's Fabulous Fire…er… somethings." He looked at her hopefully. "You wouldn't want to pose for any advertisements would you?"

"No, I would not," she said firmly. "The last thing I want to do is draw attention to myself."

"I guess you're right," Fred conceded. "But still…" his voice trailed off again and he was lost in thought.

George suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. He waved his wand over two glass vials and handed them to Ginny. "Here. I placed an unbreakable charm on the glass. It should last you until you get them home."

Ginny pocketed the vials. "Thanks George," she said gratefully. "I owe you."

George waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. Harry's invested enough money in our business over the years we can part with a few dragon scales and veela hair." He cleared his throat. "I assume Harry is a part of whatever you're planning on doing with those?"

"Yes, but don't ask me to elaborate."

"Fair enough." George gave her a quick smile and then noticed Fred who was still staring at the wall over Ginny's shoulder, a glazed look in his eyes. "What's with him?"

"Apparently I've inspired him," Ginny said dryly. "He's brainstorming I think."

"Looks like it hurts," George commented. He turned to Ginny and took her elbow. "C'mon, I'll walk you out."

Ginny said goodbye to George at the door and once outside, turned on her heel and apparated directly to the front hallway in Grimmauld Place. She hung her coat and purple scarf up on the coat rack by the front door. (She'd started wearing a coat weeks ago when she'd finally had enough of the stares as she went about in snowy London) Noticing the mail Dobby had laid on the front table, she picked up the envelopes and absentmindedly leafed through them on her way into the living room. She was pleased to see a letter from her friend Maureen who lived in Paris.

She collapsed on the couch and flicked a finger at the fireplace. Flames sprang up and she sank back into the cushions to read her letter. She was giggling at Maureen's description of her first day at the Ministry of Magic in Paris, where her friend had apparently miscast the charm to send a memo to the next office and sent a whole flock of paper airplanes zooming throughout her entire floor, when Ginny heard a soft pop from the hallway.

"Harry?" she called, sitting up and looking expectantly towards room's entrance. He stepped into the room brushing snow out of his hair. His eyes were bright and his cheeks pink from the cold. Damn, he never failed to take her breath away. He smiled when he saw her and Ginny noticed the predatory look come into his eyes as he came towards her.

Harry strode across the room and moved over her, forcing her to lean back into the cushions as he loomed over her. He lowered himself onto her body without saying a word and she giggled as he let his weight fall on her and pressed her back onto the couch. He stretched out on top of her, trapping her hands against his chest as her letter was crushed.

"Mmm…you're warm," he sighed happily and pressed his face into her neck. His arms snaked around her waist and slid underneath her. He lifted his legs onto the cushions next to her and toed off his shoes. They fell with two plops onto the floor as he snuggled against her body.

"Get off me you big oaf," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulders. "Oof…you're heavy."

"Missed you," he murmured into her skin. "How was your day?"

"Very productive," she said. She tugged her arms up and out from between their chests and draped them over her shoulders.

He lifted his head. "Yeah? Did you get the information from Hermione?"

"She never had a clue," Ginny grinned. "I was very subtle. It was one of my finer moments."

Harry lifted his eyebrows.

"No really," she insisted. "She had no idea I was pumping her for information. It was genius."

Harry shifted until he was half-sitting, half-lying in her lap, his head propped up on the arm of the couch. One of her arms rested on his stomach and he laced his fingers through hers. "So, what did she say?"

"It's a potion," Ginny told him. She explained how she had recorded Hermione's lecture to Tonks and her subsequent trip to Diagon Alley to get the dragon scales and veela hair.

Harry frowned. "So Fred and George know we're up something. That's not good."

"They'll be fine," she assured him. "I didn't tell them anything. They can keep their mouths shut."

"I guess." He turned her hand over and began tracing her palm lightly with his calloused fingers. "What does the potion do exactly?"

Ginny pulled her hand free and held out a hand towards the doorway. After a moment her wand appeared, soaring through the air. She grabbed it out of the air and said the spell to playback the recording she'd made of Hermione.

Harry listened in silence. He rolled his eyes at Hermione's detailed lecture and concentrated closely when she described the potion. "She doesn't give instructions," Harry pointed out. "We're going to have to look it up so we can brew it."

"She says it takes two weeks to prepare," said Ginny glumly. Her thighs were starting to tingle; a sure sign that numbness would set in soon. Harry was getting heavier by the minute.

"We can probably find it in one of the books in the library," Harry said. "What did she call it?"

"Ulfric's Brew. It's named after the wizard who invented it." Ginny tried to move her legs but she was pretty well pinned to the cushions. She could use magic to move him but instead, slipped a hand underneath Harry's jumper and combed her fingers through the hair surrounding his navel. Might as well enjoy the moment; even if her legs were going to fall off from a lack of blood. She spread her fingers wide and slid it around to his waist, her hand caressing up and down his side.

He gave her a lopsided grin and craned his neck up towards her. "C'mere,"

She put her head down and he kissed her softly. His mouth was already open by the time their lips touched and he captured her bottom lip between his own and held it for one sweet moment before he moved his mouth slowly over hers. His hand lifted up and slid into her hair as he held her head to his own.

"I really did miss you today," he said, pulling back and kissing the tip of her nose.

"Me too," she confessed. "Tonks and Hermione are big fun but they lack certain attributes."

Harry smirked and let his head drop back down to the arm of the sofa but kept his fingers tangled in her hair, gently massaging her scalp. "How was Hermione? Grumpy much?"

"Not too bad. But I could tell she was glad to get out of the house. I wish we could come up with some sort of research project for her so she wouldn't be bored while she waits for the babies."

"I guess we could ask her to look into that gold aura that seems to be showing up more and more." He fixed his green eyes on her. "But you have to answer all the embarrassing questions."

It was Ginny's turn to smirk. "You really are scared of her aren't you?"

"Have I told you about the time she tried to talk to me about wanking to relieve tension while we were still at Hogwarts? The woman knows no limits."

Ginny threw her head back and laughed merrily. "I'd forgotten about that," she guffawed. "She mentioned it to me a few months later when I was complaining about how moody you were one day. I laughed 'til I cried when she did her interpretation of the look on your face." She chuckled harder at the memory and Harry's body shook with her laughter.

"It's amazing I still want to be her friend after all the embarrassing conversations she's tried to have with me."

Ginny lifted her head and wiped her eyes with the hand that was not trapped underneath Harry's body. "I think she felt responsible for you. She knew you didn't have anyone else to talk to about stuff like that."

"I reckon," Harry said. He shuddered once as if he was trying to erase the memory.

"It's kind of sweet when you think about it," Ginny pointed out. "She was trying to make up for you having to live with those awful muggles."

"Okay, okay, you're right," Harry said, holding up his hands in defeat. "Still, it was awkward to say to the least. And if she'd had any idea about what gets talked about in a boy's dormitory, she might not have worried about it."

"She probably would have worried about it more," Ginny retorted. "I have six brothers, I know how you guys talk. Half of its exaggeration and the other half is complete rubbish."

Harry grinned at her. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Ginny scoffed and he reached up a hand to brush a loose hair behind her ear. "Although discussions about you seemed to be a favorite. Well, when Ron wasn't around anyway."

"Harry Potter!" said Ginny indignantly. "What did you say about me?"

"It wasn't me," he insisted. "It was Seamus, Dean and Neville." He blushed. "It was agreed upon that you were…um…extremely shaggable." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I know I've found that to be the case."

Ginny took her hand out from underneath his jumper where she'd been tracing the muscles on his abdomen and punched his thigh. "Git. Why didn't you defend my honor?"

"Ginny," Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you trying to tell me that girls don't discuss the very same things in a dormitory?"

Ginny opened her mouth to protest and promptly shut it, realizing he was right. "Still," she huffed. Harry smirked at her and she let the matter drop.

Her legs were completely numb by now and her toes were starting to tingle. This had gone on far enough. She punched some magic into her legs and arms and shoved him off onto the floor. He landed with a heavy thump on his stomach and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"What was that for?" he protested.

Ginny massaged her thighs to get her circulation flowing again. "Sorry," she said without a trace of remorse. "My legs were numb and I was about to panic."

Harry sat up and massaged his forehead that he'd hit when she rolled him off the couch. "You could have just asked."

Ginny shrugged one shoulder and crossed her leg over her knee to begin massaging her bare feet. "More fun this way."

Harry stood up and stretched. He noted how Ginny's eyes went directly to the patch of exposed skin on his stomach when he lifted his arms over his head and smiled. He sent a tendril of magic snaking slowly towards her, pleased when she sensed it coming and reached for him.

Their magic merged and Harry inhaled and exhaled slowly as her power poured into him. "That feels good," he said, cracking his neck and twisting his torso until his back popped. "Helps to get those kinks out."

She kicked him gently, grinning. It was hard to maintain a façade of irritation when his energy was moving through her so fabulously.

He held a hand out to her and she took it, allowing him to haul her off the couch. "C'mon, let's go see what Dobby made for supper."

It didn't occur to Ginny to ask about Harry's day until much later when they were finishing their pudding. "What did you do today?"

Harry swallowed and took a sip of pumpkin juice before answering. "I went in to see Bintliff. He sent an owl this morning after you left asking for an update on things."

Ginny twisted her fork in her fingers, pushing the food around on her plate. "What did he say? Was he disappointed?"

"Dunno. He seemed a bit frustrated but admitted that we were doing everything we could be doing. He doesn't want to bring anyone else in on this so he knows we're pretty much stuck."

She put her fork down completely and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "I hate being stuck. It's boring."

Harry smiled at her and took another bite. "I know. That's why I think we should take a trip to Switzerland to see Tuelsburg's apartment. The Aurors may have missed something.

"A trip?" Ginny's face brightened and she sat up. "Really?"

"It's a business trip you know, not for pleasure. But maybe we can spend an extra night and relax a bit."

"Relax?" Ginny repeated. "I've done enough relaxing thank you very much. I'm ready for some action!"

"Oh really?" Harry asked in a mild tone. They had remained connected throughout the meal and he used the connection now to send a spike of desire to her.

Ginny inhaled sharply and stiffened. "That wasn't quite the kind of action I was talking about," she said demurely. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up.

"Race you," she said suddenly and took off like a shot, running for the stairs. Harry wiped his mouth with his napkin and laid it on the table next to his plate. He waited until he could hear Ginny's footsteps reach the top of the stairs before standing up and apparating up to the bedroom.

Ginny burst through the bedroom door but was brought up short by the sight of Harry lounging against the bedpost. Her declaration of victory died on her lips and she glared at him.

"I win," he said in a low voice. His mouth curled upwards.

"You cheated," she accused.

Harry took two steps towards her and grabbed her by the hips, lifting her up and guiding her legs to wrap around his waist. His hands slid down to her arse and he held her against him while he kicked the door shut. He spun around and carried her to the bed, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long red hair fell over both their faces in waves as she looked down at him.

"I guess you'll just have to punish me then," he whispered, just before she kissed him. And he tumbled with her onto the bed.

"Ginny, I think you can let go of my hand now," Harry said through gritted teeth. "We're airborne." They were on a Muggle aeroplane headed for Zurich, Switzerland and Ginny was just a little nervous about her first experience on a plane.

"Sorry," said Ginny. She relaxed her death grip around his hand and Harry gave a little whimper as she let go.

"Your grip is not normal," he complained. He used his other hand to massage the hand she had squeezed with an iron grip.

Ginny chuckled, her eyes still closed. "Ron used to say that I had freakishly strong upper-body strength."

"He was right," Harry grumped. "Damn Ginny, check your fingernails. I think you've got a bit of my skin underneath them."

"Oh, give it here," Ginny sighed. She opened her eyes and took his injured hand between her own. She concentrated and the pain in Harry's hand disappeared. He could still see the red marks from where her fingernails had dug into his skin but they no longer hurt.

"Thanks," he said, taking his hand back. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad. Feels weird though; we're flying through the air in a metal machine that's not using any magic to fly."

"You know we couldn't have used magical means of transportation. We discussed this. We would have had to register for an international portkey at the Ministry and Bintliff doesn't want paper records of anything. And we can't apparate into foreign territory."

"Wish I could have just flamed there," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"What do you mean, 'flamed there?'" Harry asked sharply.

Ginny flushed. Ooops.

"Ginny-" said Harry, warningly.

"Fine," she said. She waved a hand and surreptitiously cast a silencing charm on their area so they wouldn't be overheard. "It's part of the fire goddess thing okay? Remember the first time you took me to Potter Glen and I mentioned that fire goddesses have a particular way of traveling?"

Harry nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

Ginny tucked a lock of hair nervously behind her ear. "Right, so not only can I make objects appear and reappear using fire, I can also use the fire to transport myself to places. I can 'flame,' sort of like a phoenix. Only it's not very easy to do if I've not been there before. So I actually couldn't have transported us to Zurich. But," she finished wistfully, "it would have been nice. A lot faster for one thing."

She chanced a look at Harry. He didn't look interested or even intrigued in her confession. He looked…angry.

"Harry?" she asked timidly.

"Tell me something Ginny," Harry said in a clipped tone. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" Ginny was surprised. "Of course I do Harry."

"I see. Then tell me this: how many other secrets are you hiding from me about your powers?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed at his tone. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I mean that you seem reluctant to share things with me. I'm tired of finding out about you, and the fire goddess thing and whatever else you aren't telling me, on the fly. It feels like you've got something to hide. I'm not on a 'need-to-know-basis,' Ginny; and I don't appreciate you treating me like it."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off.

"It's true and you know it," he hissed. His eyes were darkening and Ginny felt pinned in her seat by his gaze. "Besides our personal relationship, we are 'partners.' We're going to be in some tough situations eventually and since you have not been completely forthright about your abilities, I don't have any idea what you are capable of."

He leaned his head back against the headrest and took a deep breath before continuing. "Just tell me Gin, is this some sort of punishment for not being honest with you about my feelings for you four years ago?"

"Harry, I-" she began but stopped to clear her throat. She looked down at her hands. "I had no idea you felt that way."

"Well I do," he said. "At first it was fun you know, mysterious and everything. But we've been together now for a few months; hell, we live together." He lifted his head and looked at her. "You share my bed, my body and you have my heart, so I don't understand why you're keeping secrets about your abilities from me."

Ginny swallowed. She was stunned by the intensity of his gaze. She was also a little confused. "I didn't realise I was keeping secrets. I didn't mean it that way."

"So why do these bits of information keep popping up?" he asked. "I've asked you before about your abilities and you've never mentioned being able to 'flame' anywhere."

"I just didn't think about it," she insisted. "I wasn't trying to leave you out of things."

"You didn't think about it?" he echoed. "You didn't think about mentioning that you can transport yourself in a ball of flame? And you didn't think to tell me that you can banish things using fire? Do you not think these things are unusual?"

Harry could see he still hadn't gotten through to her. "Let me ask you something," he said, suddenly changing tactics. "When we were at Hogwarts and you found out that I had kept the information about that damned prophecy from you, how did that make you feel?"

Ginny's face screwed up as she tried to remember. "Um…like…well, like you didn't trust me. Like I wasn't good enough to be a part of your life."

"Exactly," Harry said quietly. "And how do you think it makes me feel to know that there are things about you that you are purposely not telling me? I'm not saying you have to tell me everything about your life for the past four years, but Ginny-" he looked at her earnestly, "-I really wouldn't mind knowing."

Ginny unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed up the arm separating their seats. She scooted over and wrapped her arms around him, her chin resting on his shoulder. Slowly his arms came up to hold her and he pulled her against him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You're right. I was keeping things. Secret little things about myself that I discovered over the past four years that no one else knows I can do."

"I wasn't really doing it on purpose," she said into his ear. "I guess I just got so used to hiding things about myself when I was in Paris."

"Why?" he asked. "Why did you feel you had to do that?"

Ginny tightened her arms around him. "No one knew who I was when I first got there," she said. "I was just Ginny Weasley, an ordinary English witch who studied hard and got good grades. I wasn't special or powerful or anything."

She pulled back a little so she could look at him. "I was afraid to show people how powerful I was, especially at the beginning," she confessed. "I thought people would treat me differently or be scared of me." She shrugged her shoulders. "Eventually I made some good friends, but even then, it wasn't something I demonstrated on a regular basis. Some friends, they sort of gradually realised it, but I was careful to not make a big deal about it."

"I'd been the center of attention for so long in England—at Hogwarts, in my family; and then after you killed Tom," she said quietly. "In Paris, I was nobody and it was refreshing. After the fire goddess thing…well, by then it was more than a habit to not share that part of myself."

Harry tightened his arms around her. "Well now you have me," he whispered fiercely. "And I am the only person around here who can understand that part of you. I not only understand it but I can match it."

"Ginny," he said hesitatingly, "I need you to share that part of you with me because I desperately need someone who I can share that part of _me_ with." He leaned his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. "You are the only one who has ever understood what it's like…"

"Power is kind of lonely, isn't it?" she said softly.

Harry smiled, his eyes still closed. "See, you always understand. When you were gone—well, I was lonely in more ways than one sometimes." He opened his eyes and green met brown. "That's why all those women never lasted," he said. "I knew none of them would ever get it like _you_ got it."

When he looked at her like that, there was nothing for it. She had to kiss him. He gathered her against him until she was practically on his lap. She kissed him desperately as if she could make up for hurting his feelings by pouring her love for him through the connection between their lips.

She slid her hand down until it covered his heart and allowed magic to flow down her arm until she knew he could feel the magic pooling in her palm, waiting for him to reach out for it.

Suddenly, something snapped inside of her. Merging with Harry was usually like letting out a little bit of her magic in a slow stream—it was easier to control that way. This time, Ginny could feel the lid on her magical core fracture and power came gushing out. It swelled inside of her and rushed towards Harry like a wave. She could sense his own magic rise up to meet it and she frantically tried to pull the power back in. It was too much, too fast.

Harry broke the kiss with a slight gasp. Ginny could see he was straining to keep himself in check.

"No," he said hoarsely. "We can't merge. I don't know what it would do to the plane. That level of power, Ginny—it might throw off the instruments that fly the plane." He buried his face in her neck and fisted his hands in the back of her shirt. "But gods, I want to," he moaned, his mouth moving over her skin. "So much."

The effort to stop his magic from merging with hers was makin him to tremble underneath her and she concentrated on pulling the power back from her palm, up her arm and into the magical core at her center. It wasn't easy. Their power strained towards each other and the more she tried to pull back, the more it fought to connect. Her body shook with the effort. This was unexpected. She hadn't felt this out-of-control need to share magic with him quite this strongly since after they had fought that duel at her parent's house.

Ginny shut her eyes in concentration; she found the threads of magic that were racing towards each other and worked feverishly to wrench hers back. It almost hurt. She curled her fingers into the skin at his neck. The plane gave a slight shudder and she knew Harry was forcing his power back under control.

Ginny's eyes flew open. She could feel them flashing between gold and brown as she struggled. She was scared. Harry could cause earthquakes on the ground; there was no telling what his power would do to a plane in the sky if it got out of control! What would happen if he shook the plane too hard? She'd been so stupid to put so much power out there for him to take…

"Deep breaths, deep breaths," he murmured into her ear. His lips found the pulse beating wildly in her throat and he pressed his mouth to it, his tongue laving over and over the thump-thump in the vein underneath her skin.

Ginny concentrated on the rhythmic laps of his tongue on her skin and forced her heart to slow down. She called on her emphatic powers and ran her hands over his shoulders and chest. It worked and Harry began to relax underneath her hands.

Ginny breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth several times and felt the power begin to recede back into her. Harry gave a final shudder and lifted his head from her throat, his eyes fading back into their normal emerald green.

His grip on her shirt loosened and Ginny slid, collapsed actually, back into her seat. Harry left one arm around her waist and laid one on her legs that were draped over his lap.

"Close your eyes baby," Harry said quietly. "They're still quite gold."

She shut her eyes, willing them to return to normal. "Is anyone watching us?" she asked in a low voice. Their faces were flushed and both were trying not to breathe heavily.

"Not really," Harry told her. His eyes darted over their fellow passengers. "Guess I won't be obliviating anyone today." He smiled at her but she couldn't see it.

He cupped her cheek with one hand, his thumb right below her eye. "Okay, open up. Let's see 'em."

Ginny opened her eyes and he nodded in satisfaction. "Better," he confirmed. "You can leave them open."

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I had no idea that would happen…actually, _what_ just happened? I've not felt such a compulsion to merge in weeks—it was out of control. I thought we'd fixed that. And why was it so hard to pull back?"

"I don't know," Harry said. He settled back into his seat but kept his grip on her legs. "I guess that's the first disagreement we've had and," he smiled faintly at her, "maybe our magic wanted to make up."

"Kind of like make-up sex?" Ginny suggested. She sat up a bit more and curled her legs underneath her. Her head fell on his shoulder.

He laughed softly. "Maybe."

"I'm really sorry Harry, it's all my fault."

"No it's not," he said, kissed the top of her head.

"Yes it is," she insisted. "If I'd been more open with you this wouldn't have happened." She shivered. "You felt the plane tremble right? We might have killed all these people by making the plane crash."

"Okay maybe it's a little your fault," he grinned down at her. "But don't worry; they probably thought it was just turbulence."

Ginny frowned at the unfamiliar word but decided she didn't really want to know.

"And I could have told you I felt this way sooner," he was saying. "This probably wasn't the best place to have it out."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you stuff. I didn't realise I was doing it. I really do trust you. It was just habit, I swear."

"I get it. You don't have to apologize anymore." He pressed another kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

They were silent for a moment. Despite their calm appearance, they were both still struggling to maintain control on their power—it was unhappy about not being shared.

"Harry," Ginny said weakly. "Why is this happening to us?"

"I don't know Nix. I thought I used to know—why we were so powerful, I mean. But Voldemort's gone. So I'm not so sure anymore."

"It didn't feel like this until I came home," she said slowly. "I never lost control like this in Paris. The last time it was anywhere near this bad was shortly before I left for France."

"Me too," he mused. "Maybe there's something that can only be done if we do it together."

The funny thing about magic, Harry reflected, was that just when you thought you had it figured out, it demonstrated that it still had a mind of its own. He couldn't define exactly what had happened on the plane when Ginny had attempted to share magic with him but it had served as a slap in the face that sometimes their magic controlled them, instead of the other way around.

It might have been the one of the worst possible places for the heads up. On a plane, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by Muggles and sensitive instruments necessary to _keep_ the plane in the air. He couldn't pretend it hadn't scared him a little bit.

Even now, while they were waiting in the Zurich Airport for their baggage to be unloaded from the plane, he could still sense the remnant of the massive amount of power that had exploded within Ginny. He shivered, remembering the way his own magic had roared up to meet it. He'd fought every minute to control himself.

Ginny laced her fingers with his and squeezed his hand. There was a soft ding from the baggage carousel and a red light flashed, indicating the baggage would be arriving soon. Harry chuckled as he watched Ginny take notice of every little detail.

"Muggles really are the most amazing…" her voice trailed off as the baggage arrived. He dropped her hand and moved forward to grab their suitcases.

"C'mon," he said, getting a better grip on the luggage, "let's go find a taxi."

Twenty minutes later, Harry and Ginny checked into a hotel that was five blocks from Sidney Tuelsburg's apartment. Ten minutes after that, Harry had Ginny pressed up against the wall of their hotel room, his mouth closed over the flesh of her neck as he thrust in and out of her, his trousers and boxers around his ankles, his fingers gripping her buttocks so hard, she was sure they would leave marks. Her black skirt was bunched up around her hips, and her silk underwear lying in tatters on the carpeted floor. They hadn't seen the sense in taking the time to make it to the bed.

"Share with me," she panted. One of her arms that had been wrapped around his shoulders lifted to grip the edge of the nearby dresser; she fisted the other hand in his hair. Despite how tightly he had her pinned, the forces of his thrusts were shoving her head and shoulders uncomfortably against the wall. She let her head drop forward onto his shoulder and tightened her stocking-clad legs around his waist, the heels from her shoes digging into his bare bum. He let the control on his magic go and his power flowed into her, awakening the parts of her that had been bruised when she had to shut them down so ruthlessly on the plane.

"Gin-ny," he grunted. She opened the channel to her magic and could almost picture the green light of Harry's rushing to fill the opening as their power merged. The gold aura exploded into the air, and filled every inch of the room; it was bigger than she'd ever seen it.

Harry didn't even notice that Ginny was chanting in Gaelic, he just knew that he was perched on the edge of something and only Ginny could help him jump off. He cursed, in English of course, and plunged into her one last time before the lights exploded behind his eyes and he spilled into her with a hoarse cry, intensely pleased when he felt her muscles contract around him at the same time. She shouted his name and let her head fall back against the wall. Her body spasmed with the aftershocks of her orgasm and Harry's mouth fell open in a silent scream as his hips jerked into her. The pleasure was exquisite—so good that it almost hurt.

They slid down the wall to collapse into a heap on the floor. He withdrew and rolled over onto his back as she sat against the wall.

"That was incredible," she breathed. Her eyes were shut; the gold aura swam over her face like a sensuous dance.

Harry gasped air into his lungs. He thought maybe he'd stopping breathing for a minute there; maybe even passed out. His head was spinning.

Ginny shifted, and funny look appeared on her face. She lifted her hips and tugged her skirt back down over her bum. She got to her knees and crawled over to where Harry had collapsed, spread-eagled on the floor, his trousers still around his ankles and his shoes still on his feet. She curled up next to him and gave a soft purr as his hand cam to rest on the back of his head.

"I can't move," Harry finally managed.

"Okay," she said, her voice muffled from where she had buried her face in his chest. "That's fine. We'll just lay here for awhile."

"You're going to kill me," he said, his eyes sliding shut.

Harry woke up an hour later. He was still lying on the floor of their hotel room and Ginny was curled up next to him, still fast asleep.

He toed off his shoes and sat up to pull off his trousers, boxers and socks. He turned to Ginny, noting that her shoes had already fallen off. She still had those sexy thigh-high stockings on and he hadn't even bothered to unbutton the shirt she'd been wearing before he'd taken her against the wall.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. He'd been so randy for her, so anxious for the magical merge between them that he hadn't even taken the time to treat her properly. He'd rutted her like an animal.

Ginny stirred and opened her eyes. "Harry?" she said, looking next to her.

"I'm here."

She lifted her and saw him sitting cross-legged at her feet. "Hey," he said weakly. He smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She sat up and winced. Yeah, definite bruises on her bum.

"What's wrong," she asked. She ran her fingers through her hair to comb out the tangles. She probably looked a fright.

"I'm sorry Ginny," he said sincerely.

Ginny frowned. "Sorry for what?"

"For…for…you know," he gestured to the wall. "I didn't mean to-"

"Are you trying to apologize for shagging me against the wall?" She titled her head. "Why would you apologize for that?"

"Well," he said, "it's just so, I don't know…you deserve better."

Ginny raised one eyebrow at him. "I remember enjoying myself immensely if you'll recall. I believe that exact words I used were something along the lines of 'Oh yes, Oh Harry, please don't stop.'"

Harry smiled in spite of himself. He stood up and held a hand down to help Ginny to her feet. "I just loose all control around you sometimes. I didn't mean to be so…animalistic."

Ginny grinned at him. "I liked it." She stepped closer to him and ran her fingers through his hair, trying to tame the messy black locks. She kissed him gently on the chin, the jaw and then his lips. "I like it anyway you give it to me, Potter."

Harry growled low in his throat. "Don't say things like that—it's too tempting. We've got work to do and I can't stay in bed and shag you all day."

"What if _I_ shag _you_ all day," she suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Tease," he grumped. He kissed her on the lips and then pulled away from her. "C'mon, let's get this over with. It's getting dark. A good time to break into apartments."

Ginny sighed heavily and turned towards the suitcases the hotel staff had carried to their room. She opened her bag and rummaged around for dark clothing. They weren't breaking into Tuelsburg's apartment per se; they did have an actual key. But the goal was to get in and get out without anyone knowing they'd been there.

She unbuttoned her white shirt and unzipped the black, pencil skirt that was by now, hopelessly wrinkled. She had stepped out of the skirt and was reaching to unfasten the garter belt holding up her black stockings when she noticed Harry standing in the center of the hotel room, his own shirt bunched in his fists as he watched her, nostrils flared and eyes glittering.

Their magic was still connected and Ginny gave a small gasp when she felt the desire coming from Harry. What was happening to them? It was like something was feeding this intense need they had for each other. She sneaked a peek out of the window. The sun hadn't quite set yet; they still had plenty of time…

Without taking her eyes off him, she reached behind her and unfastened the black lacy bra she was wearing. She slid the bra off and stood there in just her garter belt and stockings; Harry had disposed of her underwear 30 seconds after they'd stepped in the room. She tilted her head and cocked a hip at him, one knee bent and one finger twirling a lock of her hair.

That was all it took. With a muttered oath, Harry threw his shirt aside and yanked her to him. He spun her around in his arms and pressed his erection into the cleft of her arse. "Bend over," he practically begged her as he walked her forward towards the mattress.

Ginny felt a thrill run through her. They'd never made love in that position. They reached the bed and she propped herself up on her elbows. She looked at him over her shoulder and spread her legs deliberately.

"Bloody hell," he swore. He fisted his erection in one hand and ran the tip of his penis up her slit until he found the center of her. He could feel her body tighten in anticipation and he suddenly plunged into her without warning. The velvet sheath gripped him tightly; the angle deeper than he was used to.

"Oh my gods," he choked. His hands came up to grasp her hips and he pulled her back against him, burying himself inside of her. He leaned forward until his head rested on the back of her shoulder.

"Harry," she finally pleaded. "Move."

Ginny rocked her hips back against him and he got the hint. He straightened up and began moving inside her. One hand slid up her spine, fingers spread wide and curled around her shoulder; the other stayed on her hip. Ginny's fingers curled into the duvet cover on the bed and her head dropped forward.

"Harry," she moaned. "Gods. It's so deep."

"I know," he gasped, his hips moving faster. "It feels so different. So," he thrust harder into her, "good."

Harry could feel the tingling at the base of his spine and the heat pooling in his groin. He knew he wouldn't last much longer; the combination of the magical connection and the new position were driving him over the edge. He shifted his position and leaned back over her. One hand reached around to bury between her legs, his fingers rubbing her in time with his movements. She bucked underneath his hand and pressed back against him. Her head lifted and she turned her face into his throat, her mouth open against his skin.

Harry slid his other arm underneath her torso and palmed her breast. He kneaded the flesh even while he thrust into her from behind. His head dropped to her shoulder and his mouth found the spot where her neck met her shoulder. His bit down on the tendon, harder than he'd intended; his teeth pinning her into place underneath him.

Harry wasn't sure what had driven him to do bite down on Ginny's neck like that and he realised with horror that he'd probably hurt her. He tried to pull away but she whimpered and pressed against him, showing him that she wanted his mouth on her. He tightened his grip on her and soon they were both climaxing—the shared pleasure spiraling through the magical connection, which flared until the gold aura was shining brightly again. He lifted his mouth from Ginny's neck and swore when he saw the raw red marks his teeth had made. He laved them with his tongue, as if he could heal them by licking them.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "So sorry."

"No," she whispered. "It's fine." She crawled up onto the bed and collapsed, her limbs still shaking from the effort it had taken to hold herself up.

Harry crawled up next to her and slid a hand under her neck. "C'mere." He pulled her to him, lowered his head to the mark he'd made and pressed his lips to it. He used the open connection between them to send healing energy through her, unknowingly healing the bruises on her bum while he soothed away the bite mark.

After a moment, he pulled back, satisfied that no trace of the mark remained. "There," he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the spot. She shivered.

"It's okay," she said, softly. "I didn't mind."

"Why did I do that?" he whispered, more to himself than to her. He had felt like he was being driven by something more than his own desire for her.

Ginny propped her head up on her hand. "Lupin did that to Tonks once too."

"What?" Harry looked at her startled. "How do you know that?"

"Tonks told me," she said. "They were having sex and well…you know, he bit her just like you bit me. Left a big mark on her. I saw it before it faded."

"But why? Why would he do that?"

"It's how werewolves mark their mates," she explained. "The other werewolves can still see the bite, you know, after it fades. It lets them know to back off. It's like marking their territory."

"Remus and Tonks had sex while he was a werewolf?"

"No, silly." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course not. But Remus is a werewolf isn't he—so it makes sense that he would retain some of their instincts even when it's not the full moon. It was purely instinctual for him to bite her. He felt really bad too but she said it didn't hurt."

Her fingers stroked the spot where he'd bitten her. "I didn't hurt me either," she told him. "It was," she shivered, "kind of erotic." She looked at him nervously. "Does that make me weird?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know what it makes you. But I'm really confused about this. I'm not a werewolf, why would I feel the need to mark you?"

"You're a lion animagus," she pointed out. "Maybe you felt the need to mark your mate."

Harry stared at her stupidly before a slow grin spread over his face. "My mate being you then?"

"Yes," she said firmly. She kissed him on the mouth. "And don't you forget it."

Harry slid the key into the lock on Sidney Tuelsburg's apartment and paused. "You're not going to giggle when we're in here are you?" he asked Ginny.

She shoved his shoulder and he smirked at her before opening the door. He stepped aside to let her go in first and shut the door behind them. The apartment wasn't much to look at. White walls, black leather furniture; everything else was chrome and glass. It was cold and impersonal, just like the man's eyes had been the one time Harry had met him.

"Not much on personal style is he?"

Harry shook his head. "Somehow, I think this is his personal style."

Ginny walked into the nearby kitchen and he heard her opening and closing cabinet doors. He moved around the living room, looking for…he wasn't sure what. The place seemed devoid of everything except furniture. The Ministry Aurors had done a good job of stripping the place.

"I'm going to go check out the bedroom," he called.

"I'll come with you," she answered, stepping into the hallway. "There's nothing in the kitchen."

They moved down the hallway towards the bedroom, stopping briefly to peer into a hallway bathroom. They reached the bedroom and Harry felt around on the wall to his right for the light switch. He flicked it on…and froze.

"Shit."

"Harry," Ginny gulped. "Who the hell is that?"

"That," he said, forcing himself to look closely, "is Sidney Tuelsburg." He walked over to the body and felt for a pulse. "And he appears to be dead."


	17. Chapter 17 Arrested Developments

"Bloody hell."

"Shite. Shite. Shite."

"Fuck."

Harry echoed Ginny's last sentiment. Sidney Tuelsburg, the man they'd spent over a month trying to locate, was dead. And he'd died without telling them what they needed to know.

"I guess whoever he was working with got what they needed," said Ginny slowly.

It wasn't the first time either of them had seen a dead body. But it was disconcerting nonetheless. This was supposed to have been a simple reconnaissance mission. Not an investigation into what might possibly be murder.

"What do we do?" Ginny looked to Harry. It had been over four years since she'd had to look at a dead body—not since the war with Voldemort had ended. It disturbed her to realise how much she'd gotten used to it during the war and was only now shocked by such things.

"We can't call the Muggles," he answered. "How would we explain what we're doing here?"

"The Swiss Aurors then?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "Nobody can know we've been here, Gin. It'll get out and the wrong people will ask questions and start making connections. It'll blow our cover."

"Well who then? We can't just leave him here!"

Harry sighed and took out his wand. "We'll have to contact Bintliff. He'll tell people he got an anonymous tip and came down to take care of things. We've done this before." He pointed his wand at the mirror on the opposite wall from the bed and muttered a spell. A soft blue light flashed over the glass for a moment and Harry spoke clearly into the mirror: "Roderick Bintliff."

Bintliff appeared in a few seconds. Ginny could see what appeared to be a bed just past his shoulders. They'd obviously caught him at home. 

"Harry," Bintliff said sharply. "What is it?"

"We've found Tuelsburg," Harry said simply, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to point towards the dead body on the bed. "Except he's dead."

Bintliff inhaled sharply but made no other sign of distress. "Where?" he barked.

"His apartment in Zurich. We're here now."

"Find anything else?"

Harry turned to Ginny who'd been rifling through the dead man's pockets. She held up a blue matchbook with the name "ä chlapf chatz" and a Zurich address stenciled on the front.

"Only this," she said. "But I don't read Swiss."

"Bring it closer," Bintliff ordered. She held up the matchbook and he squinted.

"It's German actually," he said. "It means 'A Drunk Pretty Lady.' Sounds like some sort of bar or nightclub. Tuelsburg may have visited it. You'd better check it out and see if you can track his movements."

Someone spoke in the background and Bintliff looked over his shoulder for a moment before turning back to the mirror. "You can't be found there. I'll send someone to get the body."

"Right," Harry nodded. "We'll go check out this club right away."

"I've had Aurors watching that apartment, Harry," Bintliff said sharply. "Tuelsburg got past them somehow."

"There's a side entrance from the alley," Ginny said. "It's so dark this late at night, he probably was able to sneak in. It's how we got here."

"Or whoever killed him used other magical methods," Harry added.

"Regardless, just find out what the hell is going on. Contact me tomorrow with what you've discovered. I want regular reports from both of you." Ginny mock saluted Bintliff's reflection and he scowled at her just before the mirror flashed blue again and his face disappeared.

Harry put down his wand and looked at her. "Up for some nightlife?"

Ginny looked down at her sensible black jeans, trainers and black jumper. "I should change first."

Karl Frick used his last clean bar towel to rub slow, methodical circles on the century-old wooden bar top in front of him. He'd been standing behind this counter every night for over 30 years and, despite the pub's questionable location, it was full almost every night. Frick had done well, not because he served good liquor, but because he catered to clientele that had no interest in attending the latest, fashionable nightclubs with their fancy cocktails and thumping music.

Frick's bar had been built in Zurich over 100 years ago and passed down in his family until he took ownership of it 25 years ago. He hadn't changed it much. The bar still retained it's old world charm with a polished oak bar, dark German beer straight from the tap and shadowy corners where patrons could still have a little privacy. Frick rarely tossed anyone out and never asked questions; the establishment was often used if someone wanted to remain anonymous.

He had just started polishing the whiskey glasses when the door opened, allowing a draft of cold air to sweep in. Karl looked up and watched as two people, a man and woman, made their way to the bar. They didn't look like the sort of people who belonged here. For starters, any woman with that color hair could never be anonymous. She was wearing a black leather jacket that fell to her knees and high heeled boots that made her look taller than she actually was. In fact, Karl looked closely, she was really quite slight.

The couple ordered two glasses of whisky and Karl was impressed with the way the woman knocked it back, like she'd been doing it all her life. The man, a tall, broad shouldered fellow with messy black hair, leaned on the bar and spoke urgently to the bartender Hans. He didn't seem to mind when the red head reached over his arm and snagged his untouched glass of whisky. She gulped it and motioned for two more.

Karl watched while the man took out a black and white photograph and showed it to Hans. A shutter fell over Hans' face. Karl had one strict rule for his employees: don't talk about patrons to other people…especially to those who ask questions and especially not in front of other customers. The pub was successful because Karl ensured privacy. He couldn't afford for patrons to think he would snitch on them.

Hans was now shaking his head vehemently and he motioned towards Karl at the end of the bar. The couple's heads twisted in his direction. The woman flashed a disarming smile and slid off her bar stool, another glass of whisky in her hand.

"Excuse me," the man said to Karl. "I wonder if you can help us."

Karl's first thought was "Oh no, they're English." His second thought never registered as he met the gentleman's eyes. They were the greenest eyes he'd ever seen and they were shining in the darkened tavern. He chanced a look at the woman. She was young—they both were—with ivory skin and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She was very attractive but Karl couldn't put his finger on exactly why. Her eyes were large pools of chocolate brown and she had pleasant enough features but there was something else about her. He shifted his gaze quickly back to her companion. They both carried themselves with an extraordinary amount of confidence. It was meant to soothe but Karl found it a bit disturbing. He had nothing to hide but right now, facing this couple, he felt like he ought to be confessing something.

"Can I help you?" He asked in his heavily-accented English. He put down the glass he'd been polishing and rested his weight on his arms on the counter.

"My name is Peter Herald," the man said politely, "and this is my colleague Jenny. We're private detectives and we're wondering if you can tell us if you've ever seen this man." He handed a black and white photograph to Karl. "We've reason to believe he may have visited your bar sometime over the last week."

Karl looked at them suspiciously and grudgingly took the photograph. He frowned. "I don't talk about my patrons."

"So he _was_ a customer here?" Peter asked shrewdly. "Can you tell us when?"

"I'm not saying he was ever here," Karl said. He handed back the photograph. "We get a lot of customers, I can't remember them all."

The man calling himself Peter (he doubted that was his real name) eyed Karl for a long moment before sliding the photograph back inside his brown suede jacket and stepping back from the bar. Karl was left with the distinct impression he'd been searched somehow.

Jenny smiled and thanked Karl before following Peter to the other side of the tavern where they huddled on the same side of a booth and sipped their whisky. A large group of fishermen came in just then and Karl spent the next three hours dealing with the raucous crowd. He kept an eye on the couple in the corner and noticed when they struck up a conversation with some of his regulars. He shook his head, wondering how the two had known which people were in here every night.

An hour later, the group of fishermen had dwindled down to just four well-on-their-way-to-being-drunk people and Karl was back to polishing glasses at the bar. The private detectives tossed back the rest of their drinks and stood up, obviously intending to leave.

They walked right past the group of rowdy fishermen and Karl noticed the woman stiffen when one of the men called something crude after her.

She whirled around and smiled brilliantly at him. "No thanks, you're not my type."

"Oh and I suppose he is," the fisherman slurred, gesturing with his beefy hand towards Peter who was standing behind Jenny. Peter was starting to look like a tightly wound coil about to spring.

Jenny put a hand on Peter's arm and squeezed. She stepped closer to the fisherman who'd made the lascivious offer and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. Karl couldn't hear what she said to him but he watched as the man's face turned purple with anger and his fist clenched on the table. His fellow fisherman hooted with glee when the woman stood up and smiled satisfactorily before turning towards the door.

She had taken two steps towards a smirking Peter when the fisherman said something Karl suspected would be a painful mistake on his part.

"A girl like you is only good for one thing anyway," he said taking another swig of beer. He wiped his mouth and grinned at her back. "Probably learned it from your mother."

Karl watched as Jenny tensed and she let out a sharp breath. Her fingers clenched into fists.

"Jenny," Peter said quietly. "Don't even think about it." He held out a placating hand.

Jenny shook her head at him. "I have to. Sorry. You know what ignorant gorillas do to me."

"You'd have a bit too much to drink; you're not thinking clearly."

Karl wondered why Peter didn't just grab Jenny and get the hell out of there. He didn't know what he was trying to stop her from doing but Peter seemed reluctant to interfere in whatever she was planning.

"Sorry," Jenny apologized. "But it's just been that sort of night."

She pivoted around, grabbed the drunk fisherman behind his neck and slammed his head down into the table. His companions jumped up but she moved quickly and shoved one elbow into a face; she kicked out with a high-heeled boot, pushing another one into a nearby table. He clutched at his stomach and toppled to the floor.

"Damnit!" Peter swore and moved to grab the man who had been advancing on Jenny from across the table. He grabbed the fisherman by his jacket collar and punched him the jaw, sending him to the bar floor.

Jenny, who was still holding the man's face onto the table bent down and hissed something in his ear. He moaned and twisted, trying to free himself from her grip but she held firm.

"Ginny, let's go!" Peter was eyeing the rest of the bar nervously. Several patrons had stood up and were staring in shock at the couple.

"No," she said firmly. "Not until I teach this git a lesson about how to treat women." The man who had been kicked in the stomach got shakily to his feet and advanced on Jenny/Ginny. He grabbed her by the arm and threw her off his friend. She landed in a pile of limbs at the nearby table.

"Hey!" Peter shouted. He leaped over the table and grabbed the burly fisherman by his shirt, lifting him a few inches off the ground. "Don't touch her!"

He tossed the man away, apparently not caring where he landed. Unfortunately, he crashed into another group of half-drunk patrons, one of whom threw him off and stood up, punching Peter in the face. Peter's head whipped to the side but he recovered quickly and punched him back.

Jenny had untangled herself from the chairs by then and she sprang up to help her companion. Karl sighed. He knew that couple was trouble from the moment they'd stepped into the bar. Now most of the patrons had joined the fight with glee. His tables were being broken, chairs crashed into pieces and glasses were being smashed at an alarming rate. He didn't even try to stop the fight, he simply moved over to the register and felt for the buzzer underneath the counter that would signal the police station.

His eyes lighted on Jenny and Peter at the center of the fight. They were standing back to back and fighting with gusto. His finger poised over the button; he almost hated to push it. The woman fought with a certain amount of grace; her black coat flew around her like a cape and her eyes sparkled as she took down men twice her size. Peter had a feral look on his face; like he was really enjoying himself as he bopped and weaved punches. He ducked and tossed a man over his shoulders, sending him into a nearby table. The man's foot caught Jenny on the face.

"Oops! Sorry love!" Peter called.

Jenny grinned at him over her shoulder and kneed a tall dark man in the groin, sending him quickly to the floor. She didn't see the man next to her as she took his companion down and he got a good punch to her jaw that had Karl wincing. He pressed the buzzer and waited for the police to arrive. Their fastest response time was three minutes; their slowest was ten. So he figured he'd had a good five minutes to watch Peter and Jenny.

It was the best bar fight he'd seen in ten years. The fact that Jenny was a woman seemed to have enraged the male patrons. Women weren't supposed to act like this and they seemed intent on making her pay for her misbehavior. The fact that she was kicking their arses only made them angrier and they were attacking each other with a vengeance; both sides having something to prove. Despite the odds, he had a feeling Jenny's side was winning. When the police finally came and broke up the fight, they hauled Peter and Jenny away along with several others who'd become belligerent.

As an officer snapped handcuffs on the couple who'd started the fight in his bar, Karl caught a glimpse of the look in Jenny's eyes and it occurred to him that what he had mistaken for confidence might be something scarier. These two were powerful. He'd seen it before in the occasional patron but he was never sure how he'd recognized it.

Whatever they were, he was pretty sure they weren't just private detectives.

Ginny groaned and lay down carefully on the wooden bench in her cell. She might have a few cracked ribs and she certainly had a swollen jaw, swollen knuckles and a black eye. She grinned despite her injuries. Damn that had been fun. Okay, she was a little drunk but wow, that'd felt good. All the frustrations of the endless hours spent working on the Tuelsburg case and not getting anywhere had been cleansed. Nothing like punching people to get out your anger.

Of course Harry hadn't been that pleased with her in the beginning; he'd even tried to stop her. When that man had insulted her mother, well there was nothing for it but to punch him. She'd known Harry had recognised what she was going to do the moment she'd decided to do it. To his credit, he hadn't tried very hard to stop her; if the satisfied grin on his face as they dragged them away from the bar was any indication—he'd enjoyed himself too.

In fact, the only problem Ginny could see was that they would now have to wait for Ron and Hermione to come and bail them out of this muggle jail. Ginny had suggested they call one of her friends in Paris as the city was a lot closer but Harry hadn't wanted anyone to know that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had been arrested for starting a bar fight. Luckily their paperwork as Peter Herald and Jenny Wesley was complete and they'd been booked under their aliases.

Unfortunately, the only wizards they knew who had a Muggle telephone were Ron and Hermione. She tried NOT to think about what they were going to say.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled from the other side of the bars. Ginny opened her eyes and was dismayed to find not just Ron but all six of her brothers standing outside her jail cell.

"Gods help me now," she mumbled and covered her face with her arms.

She heard a snort and then a snicker and she peeked through her arms to find all six of them struggling to contain themselves. When she glared at them they roared with laughter, clutching the cell bars and their stomachs.

"Honestly Ginny," Percy said, a smile on his usually stern face. "Harry can't take you anywhere!"

"Hey, he's in jail too," she retorted.

Bill shook his head, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "He said you started it; that he had to get involved or you might have been killed."

"Please," Ginny scoffed. "I had three of them down before he even joined the fight. If you think this is bad," she gestured to her black eye, her bruised jaw and split lip, "you should see the other guys."

"Oh we have," Fred sing-songed. "We wanted to see what sort of injuries our dear, demure sister had inflicted."

Ron jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Remus is signing the paperwork to get you both out of here right now."

"You brought Remus?" Ginny covered her face with her hands. "Why, why, why? We only needed one person."

"Are you kidding?" Charlie said in disbelief. "_Everyone_ wanted to come. We had to practically force Tonks stay home with Hermione."

"You didn't tell mum did you?"

"Please Ginny, we're not completely stupid."

Ten minutes later, Ginny was signing her fake name with a flourish as the Zurich police released her. She'd yet to see Harry; apparently Remus had bailed him out first.

She followed Bill through the door of the police station and felt her face light up in a smile when she saw Harry waiting for her. He had two black eyes, a large bruise on his cheekbone and his knuckles had been scraped raw from landing forcefully on so many body parts.

"There's my little bar brawler," he teased.

She threw her arms around him and he lifted her off her feet, hugging her tightly. She winced at the pressure to her ribs but let him anyway. "Are you mad at me?"

He set her back down and brushed a piece of hair out of her eye. His fingers traced the bruise. "No, I'm not mad. I was irritated at first when I realised you were about to hit that guy, but I can't deny the whole thing was," he shrugged his shoulders, "therapeutic."

She grinned at him. "We kicked arse."

"Yeah, we did." He let his forehead touch hers. "You were bloody fantastic."

"So were you," she said breathlessly. She was still wound up from the fight and being close to him sent her blood surging even faster.

There was a clearing of a throat and Ginny looked over his shoulder to see Remus standing behind Harry. "A bar fight, Ginny? Really?" Her former professor raised an eyebrow at her.

Ginny had the grace to look sheepish. "He insulted my mother."

There was a burst of laughter from Bill and Charlie and the edges of Remus' mouth twitched. George came up behind her and clapped a hand on her shoulder. She winced again. Okay, maybe she'd hurt that shoulder as well. "C'mon, let's get back to the hotel and toast to the Bar Fighting Duo."

"You guys don't need to come back to the hotel with us," she said, somewhat alarmed by their show of enthusiasm.

"Oh no," Fred said, moving to stand on the other side of her. "We want to hear the whole story. In fact," he looked at her thoughtfully, "you wouldn't happen to have a pensieve on you would you?" George laughed and her twin brothers each slung an arm over her shoulders and squeezed her.

Harry immediately noticed the look of pain that appeared on Ginny's face and he stepped forward to pull her gently out of their grasp. "Are you hurt?" He ran his hands lightly over her shoulders and her arms.

Ginny winced again. "I think my shoulder is wrenched a bit." She pressed a hand to her right side. "And my ribs are bruised." She glared at him. "Hey, why aren't you hurt?"

He shrugged. "I think I may have sprained my wrist actually." Her face softened when he held up the swollen evidence and she reached out and wrapped her thumb and forefinger lightly around his wrist and concentrated on taking his pain away. After a moment, she removed her hand and he smiled gratefully at her.

They fell into step beside Ron and made their way slowly towards their hotel which was thankfully only a few blocks away. The rest of her brothers were busily reenacting their version of events from the "Zurich Bar Fight" as they were now calling it. George had wanted to call it "The Time Ginny Became a Man" but he only received a slap on the back of the head for his suggestion. Everyone seemed to have forgotten Harry's tribute to the fight.

"Hey Harry, remember that time we got into that fight in the Leaky Cauldron?" Ron looked at expectantly at his friend.

Ginny tore her gaze from the brothers in front of her. "You never told me about that."

Harry laughed. "It was a few years ago. Ron and I got into a fight with some blokes over at the next table."

"Why?"

Ron shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "We'd been having a quick bite to eat with Hermione and she'd left early. After she'd gone, one of the blokes called her a mudblood; never was sure how he'd figured out she was muggle-born, and well," he looked at his sister sheepishly, "you know what that word does to me. Especially when it's directed at Hermione."

Ginny nodded wisely. "Slug vomiting and flying fists usually."

He grinned and looked back at Harry. "Well, of course I jumped in. Harry here had to join the fight, he couldn't be left behind."

"I'd had a few too many," Harry told her. "And plus you know how good I am at bailing Weasley's out of trouble."

"Watch it Potter," Ron narrowed his eyes at him. "As I recall, it was a Weasley bailing you out this time."

"Yeah but I was in jail with a Weasley," he pointed out. "So I'm still right."

"So what happened with the fight?" Ginny interrupted patiently.

"Oh, well, Ron and I beat them up and then arrested them. We took them down to the Ministry and charged them with…what was it Ron?"

"Inciting a rebellion," his friend grinned. "We completely made it up but by the time the Ministry figured it out, those guys had been in jail for 24 hours. It was great."

"You know," Harry began thoughtfully. "Overall I think I'd rather get into a bar fight with Ginny than with you, Ron."

"Hey! She got you thrown in jail!"

"Yeah but when it's over, she can kiss my bruises away. You can't." He waggled his eyebrows at Ron who shuddered.

"Fine, get in all the bar brawls you want with my little sister. Just please memory charm me right now so I can get that picture out of my head."

Ginny and Harry both laughed and Harry stopped walking and tugged on her hand. She looked back to see what he wanted and he swept her into fierce kiss, his hands coming up to thread through her hair.

"Quit it!" Ron barked at them. "C'mon, stop it. That's…that's disgusting. Harry, you've made your point…oh Merlin…if you don't move your hands right now…oh brother…I'm gonna puke. Fine! Fine! Stay there, snogging in broad daylight. I'm leaving."

Harry broke the kiss as Ron stalked off to catch up with Remus and his brothers. He smiled at her and took her hand. "Well that got rid of him."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "We'll have to remember that. Might come in handy."

Two hours later, after telling the story five different times, Ginny finally managed to push her brothers out of the hotel lobby and back towards the floo connection they'd used to travel to Zurich. Bill had connections it seemed, and they'd been able to travel from England fairly quickly upon receiving word of Harry and Ginny's unfortunate incarceration. Ron hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut for two bloody minutes.

"C'mon," Harry said. He pulled her back towards the waiting lift.

"We need to get you healed," he said in a low voice as they waited for the lift to reach their floor. "I can tell those bruised ribs are bothering you."

"I guess that happens when someone sticks a steel-toed boot in them," she whispered back.

Once they were inside their room, Harry helped Ginny remove her outer clothing. She was getting sorer by the minute as the adrenaline from the past few hours wore off. He hooked his thumbs on the straps of her knickers and tugged them down, kneeling to pull them over her feet.

"Why are we removing my knickers?" she asked amusedly. He stood up and reached behind her to unfasten her bra.

"I need to know where all your bruises are."

"I don't think I've got bruises on my bum."

His hands came up to cup her now-exposed breasts reverently. "No but you've got bruises here." His thumbs brushed a few faint purple marks tenderly. "We can't have that."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "We can't?"

"Of course not." He looked at her like she was stupid. "Trust me, it's really important."

"Why?"

"Because they're your breasts." He said this firmly as if it explained everything. Ginny decided to let the matter drop and reached forward to unbutton his shirt. He let her tug the blue material past his wrists but stopped her when she went to unbuckle his belt.

"Better leave those on. It'll be too tempting and I don't want to hurt you before you're healed."

She smiled demurely and lay down carefully in the center of the bed, watching as he kicked off his shoes and crawled up to kneel beside her.

"How did you learn to do this anyway?" she asked as he bent his head to her sprained shoulder. "Could you always do this?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's instinctual I think," he said slowly. "Most of what I can do is. But even if I know I can do something, I don't always know how to control it or power it. Dumbledore helped me with a lot of that. Remus too. He still does sometimes." His fingers came out and skimmed lightly over her ribs. "I've never healed anyone the way I do you. Never even thought to try. I don't think I could actually, I think it's our connection that allows me to do so. We share magic and if I concentrate, I can channel my magic into healing your body."

He kissed her shoulder gently. "I don't think it would work for broken bones or anything like that," he decided. "I can only direct the magic to move over and just underneath the surface of your skin."

"So that day you healed my bruise, in the kitchen after our snowball fight…that was the first time you'd ever thought about doing that?"

"Yeah," he smiled sheepishly. "The idea just popped into my head. It was like I knew what to do without thinking about it."

"Ah," she said wisely. "I know what you mean."

He grinned boyishly at her and then put his hand over her eyes. "Relax okay. You don't have to share magic with me for this to work." She felt his lips skim over her shoulder again. "Let me take care of you."

For the next hour, Harry's magic danced over and underneath Ginny's skin like tender fingers of energy. His hands caressed her, soothing away the bruises while his mouth traveled over her skin. Electricity seemed to spark every place he touched. His lips caressed her flat stomach while his hands directed the magic to repair the bruised muscle tissue over her ribs. He touched every inch of her black eye, her swollen lips, her knuckles and fingers, making sure to repair the slightest damage. She felt as if a million little lights had entered her body and spread out until her insides were tingling.

At some point, she knew he had finished healing and was just having fun. By the time Harry had reached the tips her feet, she was past caring how needy she would sound if she begged him to make love to her. He was moving his mouth in hot, open kisses back up her leg; when he reached her inner thigh, she gasped and fisted a hand his hair.

"Harry, please!" She lifted her head and gave him a look that did nothing to hide her shameless begging.

He gave a strangled sound of relief and sat up on his knees. His eyes locked with hers as he unfastened his belt and trousers. He hurriedly shoved them off, twisting so he could work them completely off his legs and kicked them to the floor. He crawled back up her body and hooked an arm underneath her knee. He lifted up the leg and bent the knee towards her chest, opening her up before sliding into her waiting warmth.

Harry heard a groan and realised it was coming from him. She was always so bloody tight. It pleased him every time he remembered that she'd been stretched to fit only him.

"Oh," Ginny breathed. Her eyes slid shut and she felt the healing lights he'd sent into her body begin to expand until they formed a massive ball of light that felt as if it was shining through every pore of her skin.

"Beautiful," he panted over her. "So beautiful."

A distant part of Ginny realized the light shining inside of her was not her own magic; but rather it was Harry's. The power he'd sent in to her had started out as healing magic but as their desire for each other grew, it had shifted. Once again, his exquisite control over his own power amazed her. She kept the lid sealed on her magic and enjoyed the feel of Harry's power swimming through her veins, helping her heart to pump faster and her lungs to breath deeper, until he was entirely inside her—in every conceivable way.

She felt as if they were moving together in some sort of song. His thrusts became her acceptance and when she would push back, he met her halfway until their bodies were slamming together towards the edge. There was an explosion so sudden that it took her breath away; it was a supernova of energetic pleasure that Ginny felt in every inch of her body but she couldn't tell if it was hers or his or if they were the same. Her body arched and green light exploded out of her in a million sparkling energy bolts before receding into Harry who accepted it back with a gasp even as he shot his climax into her.

They lay together, panting, muscles twitching and spasming. Harry's head was nestled on her newly-healed shoulder—she could feel his warm breath in pants against her neck. He lifted a shaking hand to smooth back the hair from her sweaty forehead. Ginny wasn't sure she could move enough to unwrap her legs from around his waist.

"Now that," she said finally, her voice hoarse from screaming his name (when had she done that?), "is bedside manner."

Harry trudged through the late February snow as he made his way through Hogsmeade on his way to Ron and Hermione's house. He cut a scowling and brooding figure through the crowds who normally would have been staring at him a bit more openly. Today, they seemed to sense his mood and had the grace to leave him alone.

He'd just come from a rather nasty confrontation with Roderick Bintliff. The wizard had demanded his presence at the Ministry this morning and hadn't wasted time mincing words: "You're not up to your usual performance on this case. If I didn't think she was a valuable asset, I'd reassign Ginny. She's distracting you; you're distracting each other and it needs to stop. _Now_."

Harry had opened his mouth to protest but shut it when he realized Bintliff was right. He was…consumed…with Ginny and the case on Tuelsburg had taken a backseat to their relationship. He should have been looking harder for Tuelsburg; he might not have been able to save his life but he might have gotten information out of him. As it stood now, they weren't much closer to solving the mystery of the talisman or why Tuelsburg had wanted it.

Harry normally threw himself into the projects Bintliff assigned him and could be quite impressive by the speed with which he wrapped up things. But that was when he hadn't had a redheaded goddess to tempt him morning, noon and night. Every time they were together Harry found himself wanting more. It got harder and harder to leave her body, as if the physical separation was going to hurt. They were sharing magic for longer periods of time and had let things get out of hand far too many times. At the last Weasley Friday night supper, they'd both had to excuse themselves early and rush home before the entire family witnessed what happened between them when they shared magic for too long.

So yes, Bintliff was right. Harry had lost focus. Bintliff strangely hadn't complained about Ginny, as if Harry was somehow responsible for everything. Maybe he was cutting his latest recruit some slack because she was new. Or maybe he just knew how a man's mind worked…

Harry puffed up the ice-covered steps to Ron and Hermione's cottage. He banged on the door hoping Hermione was already standing up; otherwise he would be stuck out in the cold for several minutes while she struggled to get up.

Luck was with him and the door opened almost immediately. Harry couldn't help staring at his friend. He had just seen her a few days ago but he always forgot how big she'd gotten. The babies were due next month and Hermione's belly stuck out from her normally slender body so far that Harry wasn't sure how she kept her center of gravity. Ginny claimed Hermione was going to deliver early and so the whole family had promised Ron they would check on his wife throughout the day while he was so busy at Hogwart's. The second task for the TriWizard Tournament was coming up and security had been increased.

"Harry!" Hermione's eyes lit up in pleasure. "What are you doing here?" She backed away from the door to let him slip past her into the warmth of their living room.

"Just thought I'd see how you're doing," he said, waving his hand over his wet boots so he wouldn't track snow and mud on the floors.

"Fancy some lunch?" Hermione winced. "It's a bit cold to go outside. Why don't I just make us some sandwiches?"

"Sounds good," Harry agreed. It was unseasonably cold for this time of the year. He never had to worry about that with Ginny around. The fire inside of her kept both of them warm, even on the coldest days. He sighed. Despite the tongue-lashing he'd just received from Bintliff, he missed her when she wasn't there. She would be at the ministry library all day today and he probably wouldn't see her until much later this evening.

He followed Hermione into the kitchen but balked when she opened her muggle refrigerator and tried awkwardly to bend over to pull out the lunchmeat.

"Why don't I do this," Harry suggested. He steered Hermione into a nearby chair and smiled when she accepted his help with a grateful look on her face.

"Thanks," she murmured. "I'm afraid I'm not the best hostess these days."

Harry busied himself with gathering everything for turkey sandwiches. "Ginny says it won't be long now. She thinks you've got another three weeks at the most." He turned his back to her and, began slicing bread for the sandwiches on the kitchen counter. From the smell of the loaf, it was Mrs. Weasley's homemade bread. His mouth watered and he realised how hungry he was.

Hermione frowned. "That means they'll be three weeks early. Is she sure?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't suppose it's an exact science."

"Is she sure they're going to be okay?" Harry turned to look at her, the bread knife in his hand.

"Don't fret Hermione," he said softly. "Everything is going to be fine. Ginny says twins often arrive early."

Hermione squeezed her eyes tight and nodded her head quickly. "I know." She took a deep breath. "I'm just scared."

"That the babies won't be safe and healthy?"

She nodded. "That and the idea of giving birth—its frightening Harry." She raised her eyebrows at him. "You do know where babies come out right?"

He scowled at her. "Yes Hermione, I know. And I reckon if I were you, I'd be terrified." He shuddered. "It sounds just awful. Sometimes I am so glad to be a man."

She rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like Ron. You're both a lot of help you know. I feel loads better."

Harry ignored the sarcasm in her voice and turned back to the counter to finish their sandwiches. He found a bag of crisps in the pantry and poured Hermione some pumpkin juice before helping himself to a butterbeer. They ate in silence.

Hermione studied her friend thoughtfully, noticing how he picked at his food and the wrinkle that had appeared between his eyebrows. She took a sip of her juice and wiped her mouth daintily before asking, "All right then, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

Harry looked up at her in surprise. "What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You've got a look about you. You're brooding about something. Tell me and I'll help."

Harry hesitated. He really could use some advice; he wanted to know if this thing with Ginny was normal or not. But this was Hermione and she always managed to drag embarrassing details out of him. He certainly didn't want her to know how he could barely control himself whenever Ginny was in the room.

"Hermione-" he began.

"Oh come on Harry! I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything! Besides I'm bored as hell all cooped up in this house all day. I need something to think about!"

He almost laughed at the expression on her face but he sensed she was serious about being bored. He remembered Ron's most recent assessment of the emotional rollercoaster Hermione seemed to be on lately and decided he didn't want to risk her bursting into tears or something else he wouldn't know how to deal with.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll talk but promise you'll be discreet?"

"I promise." Hermione sat up straighter in her chair, a look of eager anticipation on her face.

He took another bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to word this. She couldn't know that Bintliff had called him on his lack of focus or what he was supposed to be focused upon. No one besides Ginny even knew he worked for Bintliff.

"Harry?"

"It's Ginny," he finally blurted out. Her eyes widened and Harry took a gulp of his butterbeer and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

"What about Ginny?" she asked cautiously. Her eyes narrowed again. If Harry was thinking he'd made a mistake by being with Ginny she'd hex him so fast he wouldn't know what'd hit him.

"It's just…just…that-" he broke off and fisted a hand in his messy black hair. "She just drives me insane!"

Hermione sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her belly. She was trying to remain calm but so far it sounded like this was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

Harry stared at the label on his bottle of butterbeer, his fingers picking idly at the damp label. "I mean I can't stop thinking about her, wanting to be with her, wishing she was around…it's driving me bonkers! I can't focus, I can't work, I can't even sleep unless she's sleeping as well. It's…it's frustrating." He looked up at Hermione. "I live with the woman and I still can't get enough of her. That can't be normal can it?"

Hermione nearly giggled with relief. So it was THAT kind of insane. The good kind, not the "I wish I'd never dated you" kind. Whew. Harry's life was spared; he'd never know how close she'd come to struggling out of her chair and flooing Bill Weasley to tell him to call a meeting of the Weasley Brother Brigade.

"Harry," she said gently. "Your relationship is still kind of new. And you've both been in love with each other for a long time. You've had years of unrequited love. Of course it's going to be distracting and consuming for you. She probably feels the same way."

"Consuming. That's exactly what it is 'Mione." Harry leaned forward, his elbows on the table. He had a sweetly earnest expression on his face that made Hermione want to ruffle his hair.

"What I feel for her--it _consumes_ me. Sometimes, when we're together, I feel like I can't breathe for loving her so much. It's…well, it's terrifying actually. To need someone this much."

Hermione reached out and grasped his hands in both of hers. "That is perfectly normal," she said firmly. "And it's about time you needed someone. You haven't let yourself need anyone since Dumbledore died."

Harry looked shocked for a moment and then relaxed. "Don't bother to sugarcoat things Hermione. No need to hold back on my account."

"I won't," she said, shaking her head. Pregnancy hormones had apparently increased her bravery. "And I mean it. It's good for you to need her again. You needed her so much when we were at school and you never even knew it. She centered you, kept you focused and made you think. But once Dumbledore was gone, you pulled back. You were both different actually. We all were…" her voice trailed off. She remembered the feeling of utter despair that had washed over the school when McGonagall had announced that Dumbledore had died fighting Voldemort. Hope for the future had seemed to fly out of the window and even Hermione had floundered to find something positive to say.

Harry and Ginny had retreated within themselves and from each other. She knew both of them had blamed themselves for the injuries that had prevented them from going to help their headmaster. And when Harry and Ginny were seen walking like ghosts through the corridors, their normal spark diminished, it had put an even further damper on the rest of the students.

For weeks, Harry and Ginny had avoided each other and their friends. Hermione had almost been able to see the guilt eating away at them. Ron had eventually lost his temper and yelled at the both of them to snap out of it, that Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted them to act this way, and that they were bringing down the whole school.

Harry had almost hexed him for that but Ginny had put her hand on his arm and stopped him. He had turned to look at her and Hermione had seen something pass between them that gave her the first bit of hope she'd felt in weeks. Harry had brought his hand up to rest on Ginny's cheek and she'd smiled faintly at him, tears in her eyes.

Hermione had dragged Ron out of the room at that point and so she'd never known what passed between Harry and Ginny that night. Ginny would only say they'd both come to terms with Dumbledore's death. Hermione only knew they'd appeared the next day in the Great Hall for breakfast and had behaved almost as much as they had before Dumbledore had died. The difference it had made in the atmosphere at the school had been astounding. Only Ron and Hermione had noticed that a few walls had remained around both Ginny and Harry. Hermione reasoned they were afraid to let themselves get close to anyone again for fear they would eventually lose them.

"But I can't focus anymore, that's what I'm telling you Hermione," Harry was saying. "I feel like I need her too much. Like I can't relax unless she's nearby."

"You guys can share magic any time you want," Hermione said curiously. "And I thought you could sense each other's emotions. Why isn't that enough for you?"

Harry groaned and rested his head on his crossed arms. "I don't know. But it just feels like I can never get enough."

"Harry, it's perfectly normal to feel this way when you're in love-"

"It's more than that," he interrupted. "I'm telling you, something else is going on. I've a constant ache in my chest if I go periods of time without seeing her. I've been in love with Ginny since we were in school and I can tell you—I never felt like this until we got together."

Hermione eyed him and tapped her fingers on the table in a rhythm that indicated she was thinking hard. "Harry," she said slowly, "tell me more about that golden aura I saw surrounding you and Ginny a few months ago."

Harry's expression became immediately guarded. "Why do you want to know about that?" he asked slowly. He and Ginny had discussed asking Hermione to look in the aura for them but now that she was so close to the end of her pregnancy, he hadn't wanted to bother her with it. And truthfully, it was a lot less embarrassing for him if she didn't delve into the thing.

"Because I think it's important," she shot back. "And what's more, I think you _know _it's important. You just don't want to talk about it." She eyed him shrewdly. "Why is that? What's so private about it?"

Harry fought the urge to growl at her. She bloody knew why it was so private; or she suspected it at least. "Just come out and say what you're thinking Hermione," he said, resignedly.

Hermione hesitated, gathering her thoughts. She took another bite of her sandwich and another swallow of juice before answering. "The truth is I haven't been able to find out much of anything about the aura. I've looked everywhere I can think of and haven't found anything that describes what I saw in Ginny's room. The accounts of other couples that have shared magic are very slim; so if something like that happened with them, it went unrecorded. I'm sorry; I don't have any facts for you."

"But you have theories?"

She bit her lip and looked at him. "They're only theories," she said cautiously. "And they're pure speculation. I'm torn really—I can't decide if the aura is a physical manifestation of you and Ginny's love or powers." She propped her head up on her fist on the table. "Or both."

Harry gulped down another swallow of butterbeer. "Both?"

"Like I said, its just speculation. I don't really know anything…what? Harry, what is it?" Harry's eyes had darkened considerably and Hermione swore she felt a shudder run throughout the room.

Harry inhaled sharply and focused again on Hermione. Her words had made him think about what it felt like to make love to Ginny. Sometimes it was as if the power inside of him was going to explode out of him. And the other night, when he had poured his power into her and she had climaxed, his own green aura erupting out of her...the intensity of it had shaken him. Hermione might be on to something.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Hermione said.

He rolled his eyes. He'd known it would come to this.

Hermione took his silence as acquiescence and plunged in. "The aura, does it always appear when you're making love?"

Harry groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, hoping this was a bad dream and he would wake up soon. She always did this to him. Why did he keep falling for it?

"Only when we're sharing magic," he mumbled. He decided to keep his face buried in his hands. It would be easier to answer her questions if he didn't have to look at her. Why was he even answering her? Oh yeah, because he was just as curious about that gold aura as she was.

"Hmm. And does it immediately appear?" "What do you mean?"

She blushed slightly. "I mean does it appear as soon as you merge magically or does it appear at a certain point in…er…things?"

"Usually just when we're both, uh, really feeling intense," he told her. He didn't really know how to explain this to her but he was glad to see she was embarrassed too.

"What else unusual happens? Ginny said the first time you kissed her when you were sharing magic you caused an earthquake? Has that happened again?"

Harry had to force himself to answer her question. "Um…sometimes the bed or the things in the room shake. But nothing like what happened when I kissed her that first time. Ginny sometimes set things on fire but she's learned to control it pretty well and can usually direct it somewhere."

Hermione sat back in her chair and pursed her lips. She felt completely out of her element here. She'd never heard of anything like what was happening between Harry and Ginny. From everything they'd both told her, it sounded like the connection between them was getting stronger.

"Anything else?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I know this is embarrassing for you but I just don't know what might be important."

Harry finally took his hands away from his face and looked at her. He was blushing fiercely. "There…um…was something the other night…it's never happened before."

"What happened?" she asked gently.

"I was, well, healing Ginny's bruises from our fight at that bar in Zurich and well…we wound up…you _know_-" Hermione nodded encouragingly. "I don't know how to really describe what happened but I had sort of _poured_ power into her, you know, to heal her? And then we started to-to make love and it was like my magic exploded inside of her—the same magic I'd sent into her to heal her. It changed somehow. She was glowing green, which is the color of _my _aura and then, at the end, it burst out of her and back into me."

Harry finished what he thought was clearly nervous rambling and waited for Hermione to use her incredible intellect to explain to him what had happened. But if he was expecting words of wisdom, he didn't get them.

"I have absolutely no idea what in the name of Merlin is going on with you two." Hermione sounded frustrated. "You two are the most frustrating-" She broke off and huffed.

Harry couldn't help himself and he smiled at her. "Well, then I'm sorry we've stumped the always-brilliant Hermione Granger."

Her eyes narrowed. "Only temporarily. I WILL figure this out Harry. Just you wait."

"I look forward to it 'Mione. I can't wait to hear what you come up with. It's bound to be the most highly anticipated opinion of the year."

She threw a crisp at him. "Prat."

Harry just laughed, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. Being embarrassed paled in comparison to stumping the great Hermione Granger. That was worth all the embarrassment in the world. He couldn't wait to tell Ron.

Ginny reached out a hand and blindly groped the plate beside her for the last bit of sandwich she'd been munching on for the past three hours. The Ministry of Magic's library was a light, airy room with long wooden tables, dust-free shelves and an endlessly cheerful and helpful librarian.

All in all, she hated it.

It was hard to concentrate in such a sterile environment. Give her the crammed shelves, dark corners and disapproving Madame Pince at Hogwart's any day. She'd been in this library since 10 a.m. this morning after Harry had finally let her get out of bed to face the day. She grinned to herself remembering how he'd convinced her to stay under the covers for so long.

But it was now 6 p.m. and she'd yet to find what she needed. For two days, she'd been trying to determine what had happened to Robert Hook's family. She'd started out at the muggle library but had only been able to find records of him and the members of his families' birth and death records. Unfortunately, Hook was the only one who'd had any magical power and when he died, the Ministry of Magic had lost tabs on his descendants. Since Hook had only gotten magical power from touching the talisman, the ministry had not been that interested in his wife and three children.

After a quick lunch with her Dad in Diagon Alley, Ginny had returned to the library deciding to change directions and research the members of the original team who had located the cave that housed the talisman. She was still working on the theory that Hooks had died when he first touched the talisman all those years ago and that someone else had taken his place. For all she knew, the person could have gained magical powers and lived the rest of his life in Wizarding England. His descendants could still be alive today. Those that had discovered the cave were all Muggles, except for the wizard who'd led them to the cave. His name had been Adolphus Biggle and his family had died out in the Dragon Pox epidemic of 1832. So that had been another dead end she'd spent hours reaching.

Hook's diary, which she had been reading faithfully since Bintliff had handed it over months ago, named five members of the team, including Biggle. There was very little information about the Muggles in the ministry library. It seemed like once the popularity of the story had died down, so had the Ministry's interest in what had truly happened.

Ginny sighed heavily and shut the tome she'd been reading. She wasn't getting anywhere. She looked at the list of the team members she'd jotted down. It was the last name that had really been giving her difficulty: Adais Malforne. He'd been the youngest member of the group and the only information about him stopped shortly after Hooks had died. She looked at the clock on the wall and made a quick decision. The Muggle library she'd been using was open until 8 p.m., she just had time to nip over there and she if she could find any records on these team members in their genealogy section.

She stood up and carried the book over to a table where library workers would find it and reshelve it. Returning to the table she'd been working on, she grabbed her quill and tore off a piece of parchment and jotted a quick note to Harry to tell him where she was going. She knew she could just leave the research until tomorrow but she felt like she was on the trail of something and didn't want to stop. She surreptitiously checked to make sure no one was watching and snapped her fingers, sending the note to Harry in a ball of flame. Their magic was attuned to each other; the parchment should appear right in front of him.

Ginny waved goodbye to the librarian on the way out the door and made her way to the Ministry Apparation points on the first floor. Most employees had gone home by now and the Ministry building was eerily silent. She apparated to a familiar alley behind the muggle library and waved her hand over her wizarding robes, changing them quickly into a green Muggle dress that wrapped around and belted at the waist. She probably wouldn't have attracted much attention in the robes but she preferred to err on the side of caution.

One hour later, Ginny was immersed in genealogical records of the four Muggle team members. This kind of research could only tell her so much—it did not, for example, tell her if one of the members had assumed Robert Hook's identity and lived a double life for a period of time. But, she reasoned, if there was a muggle record of the person's life and their descendants then it was pretty safe to assume the person in question had not acquired any magical powers and lived the rest of his life as a wizard.

Three hours later, she'd satisfied herself that three of the four team members had spent the rest of their lives in the Muggle world. She had yet to find any information about Adais Malforne other than a record of his birth and early school records. In fact, his disappearance from the muggle world coincided with Hook's death by six months. That couldn't be a coincidence could it? And there was something funny about his name…

She realised with a start that if indeed Adais Malforne was the person who had touched the talisman after Hooks and received the gift of magic, then he'd probably have wanted to change his name and start over in the Wizarding world. Three hundred years ago, the muggles and the wizards had coexisted rather peacefully together and Malforne, whoever he was, would have probably known about the Wizarding areas.

Synapses were connecting in her brain so quickly she couldn't make sense of the trail until, as if a giant light bulb had gone off, a burst of recognition manifested itself. She sat straight up in her chair and stared at a nearby potted plant for several minutes as her brain went over and over the idea she'd just had. But that was crazy. It couldn't possibly be…she stood up and shakily gathered copies of the records together. Her hands were trembling but not from fear. She would have to go back to the Ministry and double check the records. Surely there were records all the way back to the beginning…

Ginny could barely think straight. The idea was ludicrous and mind-boggling and she almost certain to be wrong. But ever since it had popped into her head, she'd had a sinking feeling she'd discovered something of importance. After all, there weren't that many wizard families out there…it would explain so much. Not just about the discovery of the talisman but about years and years of prejudice.

Positive she was crazy, Ginny practically ran out of the library to a nearby alley so she could apparate back to the Ministry. Everyone else would be gone by now and the library archives would be locked but that wouldn't stop her from getting in. She wasn't a fire goddess for nothing. She could easily flame inside. And once she was inside, she knew exactly where to look. She'd seen it earlier in one of the books she'd leafed through. She hadn't paid much attention at the time, although her brain had registered what she'd found. Now it might be the key to everything…

Harry rolled over in the bed and looked at the bedside clock. It was after 10 p.m. and Ginny still wasn't home. He didn't begrudge her absence exactly, especially after she'd sent him that note telling him she wouldn't be home until late, it was just that he missed her. He hadn't even considered sleeping until she got there and had spent the last thirty minutes reading a book Hermione had forced on him about the construction of England's wizarding areas. Although the protections and wards surrounding Grimmauld Place and Potter Glen were substantial, Harry was always on the lookout for more privacy. He never wanted to take the chance that someone uninvited could find his houses. He'd probably need to put some wards around the apartment he'd bought for Ginny in Paris but as that was part of an apartment building it was a bit trickier to conceal. If the book could tell him how Diagon Alley—a Wizarding area in the heart of one of the biggest cities in the world—was concealed from the rest of London, he might be able to modify the spells for his own use.

He was contentedly albeit grudgingly engrossed in the book when he heard a loud whoosh and a ball of flame flared at the foot of the bed before dying away to reveal a flushed and panting Ginny. She had a large book and a stack full of papers pressed to her chest. Harry wondered how she'd managed to keep them from burning up when she flamed but realised he'd probably never know the answer to that question.

"Harry," she said breathlessly. "You won't _believe_ what I've just discovered!"


	18. Chapter 18 Magical Bullets

Author's note: I AM SO SORRY THAT IT'S BEEN SO LONG! I'm back in the swing of things now and there should be regular updates from now on. I can't apologize enough for the wait (I was working on my new fic, "Need" which would NOT let me go!). I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Certain questions are answered and others are posed. Thank you so much for the continued support and encouragement, even when I was neglecting you. Happy Reading.

Harry twirled Ginny around on the dance floor. He appeared to be completely focused on his date; indeed, dancing couples nearby smiled fondly at the pair who appeared to be so in love.

What they couldn't see was that Harry was not looking directly at Ginny. He was, in fact, looking just beyond her right temple to a particular corner of the room where Narcissa Malfoy was greeting her guests.

"I don't get it," Harry muttered in Ginny's ear. "What exactly are we doing here?"

"We're watching Narcissa Malfoy," she whispered back. "How many times do I have to explain it to you?"

Harry scowled, but quickly plastered a smile back on his face when he noticed several people watching them. He avoided these Ministry things for a reason. People he'd never even met fancied themselves his friends and ministry officials showed him off. He only attended unless it was necessary and those functions usually took place outside of England.

But even he had to admit that it was odd that Narcissa Malfoy would be hosting such an event. Since her husband had been killed as a Death Eater and her son, Draco, administered the Dementor's Kiss for also being a Death Eater, Narcissa had kept a fairly low profile.

When Ginny had apparated to their bedroom a week ago with information she was certain proved the Malfoy line was in fact, descended from the Muggle Adais Malforne, she'd become obsessed with the Malfoy family. Harry had to agree -- the evidence was pretty damning -- and it was a twist of irony that a wizarding family who'd always touted their pureblood could be descended from a Muggle who'd obtained magical powers under nefarious circumstances.

They only had Ginny's hunches to go on. She was rarely wrong, but claiming Adais Malforne had gained magical powers from the talisman all those years ago was speculation at best. It was an even greater stretch to assume that Narcissa Malfoy had anything to do the current mystery surrounding the talisman or Sidney Tuelsburg.

_"It's too much of coincidence," Ginny had argued. "Adais Malforne took the talisman from Hook after he'd been struck down, somehow gained magical powers, assumed his identity to make the story stick, spread the story that Hook died, and then quietly disappeared from the muggle world to assume a different identity." ___

_"Look," she said and she unfolded a large, delicate piece of paper that was so thin Harry thought it must have been onionskin. It was a picture of the Malfoy family tree, and it was so old that Lucius Malfoy wasn't on it. Her small finger traced the branches of the tree delicately as she pointed to the very first name. _

_"Aidan Malfoy," she recited. "The oldest living known living relative of the Malfoy family. Tell me the similarity in the names isn't a coincidence. And look — the dates match. It all fits Harry."_

_"But how does this help us now? Let's say the Malfoys are descended from this Muggle fellow who got magic from the talisman and managed to marry a pureblooded witch. What does it have to do with the talisman today?"_

_"I don't know," Ginny said stubbornly. "But it has to mean something. If the Malfoys knew about their ancestor…well, who knows what they would have done to keep it a secret. Narcissa could have arranged for the talisman to be stolen as some sort of protection for the family name."___

_"And how does Sidney Tuelsburg fit in?" Harry challenged. "Why would Narcissa care about it now — the talisman has been in that museum for 50 years. Why now? The last of the Malfoy blood line is dead."_

_"I don't know, Harry," she repeated. "But it's got to mean something!" She looked back at the Malfoy family tree and fingered the edge of the paper._

_"Ginny," said Harry suddenly. "Did you _steal_ this from the Ministry library?" _

_"Um…"_

_"Ginny!"___

_"I'm going to take it back," she said defensively. "I was just in a hurry…"_

A week later, when Ginny had heard Malfoy Manor was to be opened up for the first time since the war with Voldemort had ended, she'd raised her eyebrows at Harry in a gesture of triumph. Harry had taken one look at her and knew they would be attending — against his better judgement.

It was almost worth it, he reflected while guiding Ginny across the dance floor, to see her dressed up. She was wearing a sleeveless, shiny coppery gown that showed off her curves and gathered between her breasts. It had a slit in front that had made Harry's mouth dry when she'd walked down the staircase earlier that evening.

"What do you expect to happen?" Harry murmured in her ear. "She's going to pull out a wand and start hexing people? Perhaps you'll find a picture of her and Tuelsburg in her bathroom?"

"Shut it," Ginny hissed at him. "We're just looking around. Why don't you give me a little credit here, Harry? I've been working my arse off looking for any sort of clue to follow in this damned mess, and when I finally find something all you do is belittle me."

"I'm just not sure you _have_ found something…"

"It's too much of a coincidence and you know it," she said, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "Narcissa is connected somehow — even if she doesn't know it."

"Besides," she continued, her tone sounding grumpy. "I don't see you offering any other suggestions."

Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry. I've been a git."

"No kidding."

"You've been working hard, and you've uncovered this giant secret," he said. "And if it is only a coincidence then it's a pretty darn good one. I'm sorry."

He kissed her cheek gently and took his eyes off of Narcissa to rest his forehead on hers. "I really am sorry, Nix."

"Its fine," she sighed. "I know you're frustrated. We both are."

Harry kissed her on the lips this time and poured his apology into the contact. She'd been working so hard, and he hadn't given her discovery the credit it was due.

Ginny pulled back and smiled brilliantly at him. The music ended just then, and he led her off the dance floor near where Narcissa was chatting with someone that looked remarkably like Pansy Parkinson. As they grew closer and Harry heard a familiar snobbish, nasal voice, he realized with a start that it was in fact Pansy — the pug-nosed, dark-haired witch hadn't changed a bit.

Ginny's eyes widened when she also recognized Pansy, and she quickly turned her back on the pair so she wouldn't be recognized. Harry agreed. He was in no mood to get into a pissing match with Pansy — the witch hated him even more since he'd brought Draco Malfoy in two years ago.

"I'm going to the loo," Ginny said in a lowered tone. "And if I get lost on the way back…well, then I'll make good use of the privacy." She looked at him pointedly and Harry knew she was going to go snooping around. He did not tell her to not go, although he was worried for her safety. Ginny would not have liked that. Instead he squeezed her hand and gave her a look which he hoped she'd interpret to mean "don't be gone too long."

She nodded back sharply and then she was gone, sliding through the crowd in a swish of perfume and that familiar spicy smell that was Ginny. Harry watched her go and turned back to the room with a sigh. He pondered his next move and making a rash decision, grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter's tray and sidled over closer to Narcissa and Pansy. He didn't really know why he was doing it, but Ginny seemed so certain that Narcissa was involved and well…he trusted Ginny's judgment. At the very least, an investigation into her activities might eliminate her from a very short list of suspects.

He drew closer, casually sipping his champagne and stopping to speak with several ministry officials on his way towards the corner of the room. Once there, he turned his back to the pair who were chatting pleasantly on the other side of a very large fern. The conversation was boring — it was the usual idle chitchat one usually engaged in at these sorts of things and Harry's mind wandered. Before he knew it, his senses were sweeping the room, gathering information about the occupants. It was a trick he often did in public places — it kept his mind focused and had often saved his arse when his senses picked up on imminent danger.

This time, he focused his energy on the pair standing near him. He shuddered when he sensed Pansy — he could have guessed her magic would be a cold, slimy ball of resentment and anger. It felt foreign, and not at all welcoming. He shifted focus to Narcissa and felt…nothing.

Harry stiffened and stretched his senses further so that he imagined them as a net surrounding Narcissa on all sides pulling closer until they were sinking into her. And still — he felt nothing.

Narcissa felt extremely normal, and that was the problem. Witches and wizards did not feel normal. The magic within them was a vibrant, pulsating thing and could not be overlooked. Narcissa felt-

The answer dawned on Harry in a shocking moment of clarity. He'd felt something like this before, over six years ago, when he was still living at Number Four, Privet Drive. He stretched even further, feeling for what he knew must exist. His senses delved deeper, burrowing into her mind until he satisfied his theory.

Harry forced himself to remain casual and finished his glass of champagne before setting it down on a nearby table. What should he do now? Ginny was right — it really was too much of a coincidence. He had to find her.

He closed his eyes and sent his magic out to her using the familiar path they always used. They were so attuned to each other that Ginny usually answered immediately — he hardly ever had to ask for her to open up. The connection took longer this time and when it was finally, faintly made, Harry's eyes flew open in anger and shock.

Ginny was no longer in the mansion.

She hadn't been lying when she said she had to go to the loo, but that had only taken a few minutes. After Ginny washed her hands, she stole out of the ladies room and instead of turning left to go back to the ballroom, turned left down the hallway. She wasn't sure what she was looking for; a library, a study…anything with a lot of papers would be great.

It would also be helpful if she knew what she expected to find. Ginny knew in her bones that there was a connection between the Malfoys and the talisman, but she was hard pressed to find such a link between Narcissa and the talisman held in safety back at Grimmauld Place.

_No, that's not true_, Ginny told herself. _You know there has to be a connection. You just haven't found it yet. _

She crept stealthily along the corridor until she reached a set of double doors. Instinct told her to at least have a look and when she creaked open the door she whispered softly, "paydirt."

It was a study. And it looked like it was being used. Ginny wondered briefly how lonely Narcissa Malfoy must get in a mansion with presumably only house elves to keep her company.

She shut the door behind her and made a beeline for the massive desk beneath a high window. The desktop was neatly organized and clean and Ginny immediately decided she preferred Harry's cluttered desktop back at their home. Ignoring the thrill that ran through her when she'd called Grimmauld Place "their" home, she set to work.

Five minutes later, she slammed the last drawer of a filing cabinet closed in disgust. She'd found nothing but household papers and bills. Apparently losing her husband and son hadn't affected the Malfoy wealth because Narcissa's bank account at Gringott's Bank was impressive to say the least.

"There has to be a safe around here somewhere," she muttered, her eyes scanning the room. She checked her watch. She'd been gone too long. Someone was sure to notice and Harry was probably getting worried. Scanning the room with urgency now, she noticed one of the largest paintings on the wall was slightly askew. On a hunch, she moved towards the painting and lifted edge very carefully.

"Gotcha," she whispered. The painting, which Ginny saw now was a lifesize portrait of Lucius Malfoy, was hiding a wall safe. It was a wizarding safe which meant it had no normal lock and would be tricky to open.

Ginny smirked to herself. She excelled at getting into things. She waved her hand to slide the painting out of her way and resisted the temptation to graffiti something nasty across Lucius' sneering face.

She pulled out her wand from between her breasts and pointed it at the middle of the safe while whispering a soft spell underneath her breath. Several brightly colored lines appeared that crisscrossed all over the front of the safe and its edge. Each different colored line represented a different spell of protection. Ginny waved her wand again and even more lines appeared, as well as a soft red glow that indicated a blood ward. _Shite_.

She took a deep breath and searched for the many spaces at which the lines crossed each other. She touched those spots with her wand while whispering a series of complicated spells under her breath. Each time she finished the spells, one or more of the lines dissolved. She worked methodically and quickly, conscious of the time she'd been there.

Finally she was left with only the blood ward. She scowled. She could break the blood ward, but it would leave her vulnerable and possibly exhausted magically. Not to mention that releasing that amount of power was bound to attract someone.

Ginny eyed the safe, hoping that was she was about to do would be worth the contents. She'd only broken one other blood ward in her life and it had been for an extra credit grade at University with other people standing by. She thought briefly about sending for Harry, but his absence would probably attract too much attention; and besides he'd probably try and stop her.

Lifting her wand again, she used it to prick the tip of her finger and squeezed a single drop of blood out. She levitated the drop over to the center of the safe where the blood ward pulsed at its highest intensity and held it there. Closing her eyes and holding out her other hand, she opened the locks on her magic and let it flow over her. She imagined the power pooling in the center of her palm until her hand was shaking with effort to contain the amount. Her eyes flew open, the pupils now a complete gold, and an unseen breeze lifted the curls from her shoulders. She let the drop of her blood fall in the center of the ward on the safe and used the power she'd stored in her hand to forced the ward to accept her blood.

It was difficult to say the least. This ward was significantly stronger than the one she'd broken at school, and she panted with the effort to change the chemical makeup of the blood already stored in the ward. Hastily whispered spells and a complicated series of motions with the wand in her hand helped, but Ginny still had to literally push her power, along with her blood, into the ward and hold it steady while the protective spell twisted and turned in its effort to avoid the change she was forcing on it. She grimaced and pushed harder, opening magical reserves she'd forgotten about until the ward suddenly exploded in a shower of Malfoy blood that splattered onto the wall and dripped on the floor.

With a relief, Ginny urged her own blood in its place and withdrew her power back into herself. She stumbled in exhaustion, but managed to catch herself on a nearby chair. The blood ward glowed brightly for a moment and then, as she waved a trembling hand over the door, the safe sprung open with a soft _click_.

What Ginny had expected to find, she wasn't sure. She supposed a family like the Malfoys would keep most of their valuables at Gringott's. But she hadn't expected the safe to be nearly empty.

A single sheet of parchment rested on the bottom of the safe. Ginny picked it up and let out a soft gasp.

It wasn't a piece of parchment at all. It was a photograph. And Ginny had seen it before. It was a copy of the wizarding photograph Roderick Bintliff had shown them a few months ago. It was Sidney Tuelsburg with a young, blonde woman Ginny now suspected was a much younger Narcissa Malfoy.

A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over Ginny, and she remembered that she had just broken a blood ward and didn't have time to dally around staring at photographs. She tossed the photograph back into the safe and waved her hand, shutting the door and allowing the painting to fall back into place.

Just as she had finished cleaning up the blood on the carpet she heard a sharp crack behind her. She whirled around to find a house elf, wearing a tea towel and staring up at her with a doleful look on her face. The elf was holding something in her hand and as Ginny stared at it everything seemed to slow down.

The house elf lunged and Ginny, who was taken aback by the sudden movement, moved too late. Ginny felt a tiny prick and she looked down in shock at the muggle syringe sticking out of her arm. She just had time to whip her head back up to yell at the house elf before everything became blurry, and she stumbled to the ground, her knees giving out beneath her.

She looked up at the now-blurry house elf who was peering down at her and then…everything went black.

Harry fought the anger and panic rising in his chest. Dishes on the nearby tables rattled ominously and several guests looked around in alarm. He took deep breaths, willing his power under control. When he felt like he'd mastered it, he spun around to find Narcissa and Pansy gone.

He growled under his breath and quickly left the room. He would go to the ladies restroom and then trace Ginny's steps from there. Once outside the loo, he looked up and down the hallway. To the right led back to the party. Ginny wouldn't have gone that way.

Harry turned left and tried to sense Ginny's magical signature as he hurried down the hallway. His gaze narrowed on a pair of double doors at the end of the corridor. There. Ginny had gone in there.

Not bothering to be silent and his panic growing, Harry threw open the doors to a study and scanned the room for signs of Ginny. It wasn't hard to find where she'd been. Her magic pulsed like a beacon on the far wall around a picture of Lucius Malfoy. Ignoring his disgust, he shoved aside the painting to find a giant wizarding wall safe.

Harry decided he didn't care what Ginny had found in the safe. He was more concerned with where she was at this moment. He turned back around to continue his search but froze at the sight of several drops of something dark and wet on the carpet. He squatted and touched a forefinger to one drop, rubbing it between his fingers as he stood back up.

It was blood; but whether it was Ginny's blood or not, he couldn't be certain.

Harry felt himself tremble in rage and power burst out of him in the form of a green energy bolt that struck the painting of Lucius and burnt a hole where his face had once been.

_If anyone had made his woman bleed, they would pay. _

Harry closed his eyes. His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as he focused every bit of energy he had on strengthening the weakening connection with Ginny. He sensed that she was tired, possibly sleeping, and she must have expended a lot of magical power recently because she felt weak. Harry followed the path of their connection, pouring more energy into it, instinctively sending Ginny power that would allow her to wake up and take care of herself until he could get there.

He felt her stir and fancied he could hear a groan as her body came alive and woke up. He poured more energy into her, dangerously depleting his own reserves so that he might be able to tell where she was. He felt Ginny's eyes open and an image flashed through his own brain.

Harry's own eyes flew open. He knew exactly where she was. He'd been there before. And although he had no idea what was going on or how she got there, he apparated quickly, bypassing the ancient wards around the Malfoy home and directly to the atrium at the Ministry of Magic.

Ginny awoke slowly as strength returned to her limbs. She groaned and opened her eyes, her head pounding with a headache. She felt hungover, like she'd spent the entire night getting pissed.

It took her a few seconds to realize that Harry was providing her with his strength. She didn't know when they'd connected, but it must have been while she was asleep. That had happened only once before, but Ginny was at once grateful for whatever it was that connected her and Harry. She knew it was his power that had caused to awaken.

She sat up slowly as Harry's energy flowed through her. She was sitting on a stone dais in the center of a room that looked familiar. With growing confusion, she twisted her torso around and with a shock, realized she was sitting directly in front of the veil at the Department of Mysteries.

A quick check revealed that she didn't have her wand, but she hadn't really expected it find it. Truthfully, she didn't need it much.

She climbed carefully down from the dais, but had to grab the edge as a wave of dizziness slammed into her. She wasn't sure what drug that house elf had given her but if she ever saw her again, she was going to find her some clothes and hand them over with relish.

Ginny stood still for a moment and tried to focus on the power Harry was sending to her. She could feel his worry and anger and energy and strength returning to her at a fast pace. He was probably overdoing it in his concern. Ginny centered herself and used their connection to call her power. She let go of the locks she usually kept on it and let the magic come. It filled her — this combination of her own magic mixed with Harry's. She used him like a siphon until she felt normal again and then let the connection idle. She could feel him moving closer to her and knew that he must have realized where she was.

This connection of theirs was coming in awfully handy.

Ginny cracked her neck and shook out the remaining fuzziness from her brain. She didn't know why she was here or what her kidnapper hoped to gain, but she was getting some answers. She was tired of all the false leads, the endless hours of research and speculation. She didn't know exactly what role Narcissa Malfoy played in all of this either, but she was going to find out.

She took a step towards the door and heard a sharp click behind her. Ginny froze.

"You're a persistent witch aren't you?" A cultured voice mused from behind her.

Ginny turned around slowly and was only a little bit surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy, still in her party robes, pointing a muggle gun at her.

"That's an odd choice for a witch," Ginny managed. "A muggle gun?"

"Unlike my dear departed husband I appreciate certain muggle contributions," Narcissa said graciously.

"You know that gun won't work on me, right?" Ginny took a tiny step to her right, hoping Narcissa wouldn't notice.

"Ah, ah, ah," Narcissa sang. "This is a special gun. It's had a few magical…modifications.

Ginny could feel Harry drawing closer with a vengeance. She knew she had to get Narcissa to talk before he got there. She could feel his anger like it was sentient thing. If Narcissa hadn't been holding a gun on her she would have rolled her eyes at her over-protective boyfriend. Honestly, as if she couldn't handle Narcissa Malfoy and one little gun.

"Did you kill Sidney Tuelsburg?"

Narcissa laughed. "I don't think it really matters now. He served his usefulness but he's gone."

"And you killed him," Ginny said persistently.

"I didn't actually," Narcissa confided. She tilted her head and studied Ginny. "Why do you care? Did you know him?"

Ginny ignored the question and decided to take a stab in the dark. "Why did he steal the talisman for you?" She was pretty sure Narcissa was behind this whole thing. There were lots of pieces missing however, and the more she talked, the more Ginny could fill in the gaps.

"He didn't actually steal the talisman," Narcissa admitted. "He just made a copy of it. I needed the spell written on it."

"Why?"

Narcissa's face immediately hardened and she gripped the gun tighter. "That's none of your business you interfering little wench. I knew there was something wrong with you the moment you stepped out of the room and didn't return to the party. We knew there was someone on our trail, but we had no idea you were so close."

"The Malfoy's are fake. Not as pure as they always claimed, aren't they?" Ginny said boldly. "I found the evidence and as soon as I kick your arse, I'm going to tell everyone."

"You aren't going to tell anyone," Narcissa hissed. "It's bad enough that my husband and my _son_ have been taken from me, you aren't going to soil the Malfoy name by spreading lies."

"It's not lies. And if your son and husband hadn't been Death Eaters they might have survived."

"You killed them!" Narcissa thundered. "You and that damn Order! Dumbledore's people!" She spat on the ground in front of Ginny. "They were fine wizards who wanted only the best for our world!"

"You're crazy," Ginny said plainly. "Utterly mad, if you think that. They both killed and tortured innocent people."

"Liar!" Narcissa shrieked at her. Her normally composed expression had fractured; her eyes were wild and her face was red. Spittle flew from her mouth as she shouted at Ginny.

"What I don't get," continued Ginny, as she adopted a deceptively casual stance, "is why? What on earth could you use the talisman for?"

"I bet I can guess," a harsh voice said from the doorway at the top of the stone steps.

"Dammit," Ginny cursed under her breath. Harry was here. And he'd probably insist she leave.

Harry ignored Narcissa and her gun as he strolled casually down the stone staircase that led to the Veil in the center of the room. He focused on Ginny, searching for injuries.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm fine," she sighed. "But you couldn't have picked a worse time to rush to my rescue. I'm pretty sure I was about to find out what the hell has been going on."

Harry used their connection and shot a spike of magic at her in punishment.

"Harry," Ginny glared at him. "Quit that. I'm trying to figure this out."

"Sorry," he said, not in the least bit sorry. "I was worried when you disappeared."

Ginny scowled and pointed at Narcissa. "That bitch's house elf shot me up with some Muggle stuff that knocked me out."

Harry's face turned thunderous. "Is that so?" He turned to Narcissa. "I'm afraid you've made a very big mistake. You see, this is my witch and I don't take kindly to people hurting her."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I _can_ take care of myself you know."

"I know you can, Nix," Harry acknowledged. "But I know something you don't know."

"What?"

He nodded at Narcissa. "She's a squib."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. _"You're kidding."_ She turned back to Narcissa, a new speculative look in her eyes. "A squib? But how can that be?"

Harry shrugged and opened his mouth to talk, but Narcissa, who had been staring at them a mixture of growing rage and disbelief, chose the same moment to explode.

"Enough!" she shouted, gripping the gun tighter in her hand. She pointed the muzzle at Ginny and said to Harry, "Don't come any closer or nothing will save her. She deserves it anyway after killing my husband."

Harry and Ginny both froze.

"How did you know," she hissed at Harry.

He smirked at her. "Trade secret."

Narcissa looked like she'd rather be pointing the gun at Harry instead, but she quickly gathered herself and composed her features once more. "No matter," she said coolly. "You'll both be dead soon, just like everyone else who knows that little secret. And once you're dead, I'll send your bodies through the Veil. Everyone will wonder what happened to Harry Potter and his girlfriend, but no one will ever know for sure."

"How did you keep that a secret for so long?" Ginny asked admiringly. "Didn't you go to Hogwart's?"

"My parents hired private tutors," Narcissa said. "No one outside our family knew until I married Lucius."

"Oooo, bet he was mad when he found out," Ginny said.

Narcissa raised an arched eyebrow at her. "He was actually, until I found Adais Malforne's diary."

"Aha!" Ginny crowed triumphantly. "I knew it!" She nudged Harry. "Didn't I tell you?"

Harry ignored her. "He had Adais' diary?"

"It was a family heirloom," Narcissa scoffed. "An heirloom that could have destroyed them! Especially if the Dark-" her voice trailed off and she gripped her gun tighter. "But no, Lucius wouldn't hear of it being destroyed. I warned him so many times…"

"Bet you were relieved when Draco was a magical baby," Harry commented.

"Yes," she hissed softly. "That was lucky. He was the Malfoy heir, you know. And well suited to it. Until you killed him."

"Draco killed himself," Harry corrected. "No one said he had to be a Death Eater."

"I have spent my entire life protecting the Black and Malfoy's pureblood line," Narcissa spat at them, "and now you two come along, threatening to destroy it! I won't let you! I've worked too hard!"

"Narcissa," Harry said gently. He could see now that the woman was quite insane. "The Black and Malfoy's pureblood lines have both ended. There are no heirs left."

Narcissa smiled a cold, chilling smile. "You're going to die soon so I guess I can tell you this. In fact, it will give me great pleasure to do so." She leaned forward and said in a stage whisper: "Draco had a son."

Ginny gasped, the pieces clicking together in her mind. "That's why you want the talisman! Because Draco's son is a squib!"

Narcissa nodded. "I am just grateful Lucius and Draco are not here to know. It would have been their greatest shame. Lucius's father donated the talisman to the Muggles when Lucius was a baby. He decided to get it out of the family so it couldn't be traced back to them. But when Maximus was born, and it was determined that he was a squib, I knew we had to get it back."

She laughed a slightly hysterical laugh. "I've been working on this for years! Years! And finally, finally my efforts will be rewarded! The Malfoy line will continue; Lucius would have been so proud of me…"

Narcissa grinned evilly at Ginny and time seemed to slow for Harry. He watched in horror as her well-manicured finger pulled back on the gun's trigger. He lunged for Ginny, knocking her to the floor and out of harm's way. The bullet struck Harry in the shoulder, and he slumped to the ground on top of her. Ginny watched in disbelief as a dark wet spot appeared right next to her hand on the back of his shoulder. Harry groaned and Narcissa laughed.

"Oh, this is even better!" she said, delightedly. "The Boy-Who-Lived struck down by a muggle bullet!"

Ginny's eyes narrowed as she gently set Harry on the stone floor so she could squirm out from underneath him. Fear clutched her heart when she saw his pale face and the blood on his shoulder but she ruthlessly shoved the emotion away. She didn't have time to remove the bullet – she had to take care of Narcissa first – but she placed a hand over the wound and concentrated. She could feel the blood leaking from his torn flesh and the pain he felt when the foreign object had entered his muscle. Ginny pushed at the blood vessels, forcing them to shut down so he wouldn't lose anymore blood. She then told Harry's brain to sleep, hoping that he would remain so until she could get him to a healer.

Ignoring Harry's blood that now coated her palm, Ginny got to her feet slowly. Narcissa was still caught up in her presumed victory and missed her chance to shoot again. Ginny took full advantage of her stupidity and faced her. Rage coiled in the pit of her stomach and Ginny felt the Fire Goddess inside of her scream for revenge. Fire raced through her veins and sparked on her fingertips. A sudden wind coiled her long hair into red whips. If Narcissa hadn't been so busy gloating, she would have noticed the liquid gold fire of Ginny's eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that," Ginny said in a quiet voice.

Narcissa just laughed again and pointed the gun at her. "Who's going to stop me?"

Ginny looked at the gun in her hand and focused her energy on the metal. The gun soon began to smoke and Narcissa cried out in pain when the metal glowed red. She dropped the gun and it hit the stone floor with a clatter. Narcissa clutched her raw and burnt hand to her chest and began backing up slowly as Ginny advanced on her.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," Ginny smirked.

Narcissa's eyes widened when she saw the full power of Ginny's wrath. With another evil smile, Ginny held up her arm, spoke in Gaelic, and shot a fiery rope out of her hand. The whip sprung out of her so hard that Ginny's shoulder jerked back with the force. Ropes of fire curled around Narcissa beginning with her ankles and sliding up her body like a bunch of slithering snakes.

Ginny tightened her fist and the fire snake wound itself tighter and tighter around Narcissa's body. She began to plead and whimper as her clothing began to smoke and sweat formed from the heat. Ginny moved her arm and with a bright flash of spell light, Narcissa was thrown backwards into the wall. Her head hit the stone with an audible crack and her eyes rolled wildly one last time before she passed out, her chin slumped forward on her chest.

The Fire Goddess was in full control now. Watching her mate get struck down had sparked something inside of Ginny that she usually kept under tight control. A thirst for revenge roared inside of her. She shouted in Gaelic and a quickly spinning ball of energy began to form between her two palms. She stretched her hands slowly apart as the ball grew until it was the size of her head.

Harry woke up, clawing his way to the surface through the fog in his head. He groaned at the pain in his shoulder. He tried to move his arm, but found the shooting pain that resulted wasn't worth the effort. He opened his eyes to look for Ginny and was shocked at what he saw.

Ginny was standing in front of an unconscious Narcissa Malfoy who was pinned to the wall with ropes of fire. She looked like an avenging angel standing amidst the flames while she bounced an enormous ball of…energy (?)…from palm to palm.

The heat in the room had risen considerably with Ginny's anger. Harry opened his mouth to shout at her, to tell her to stop – they needed Narcissa alive – but his throat was so dry he had to stop, swallow, and try again.

"Ginny," he croaked.

She didn't answer focused as she was on her prey in front of her.

"Ginny," he tried again. She didn't respond.

"Phoenix!" he shouted. "Nix! Stop!"

Ginny stiffened and turned around. She fastened fiery golden eyes on him. Her face was lit with an inner glow and fire danced on her skin. The Veil behind Harry began moving as a fierce whip of wind struck the cloth when she turned to him. The whispers Harry had always been able to hear just out of reach beyond the Veil rose in a crescendo of song.

"Harry?" she asked in an odd echoing voice.

"Ginny," he said gently, forcing himself to sit up. "Stop. It's enough."

"But I-" she looked at Narcissa in confusion and then back at Harry.

"It's enough," he repeated, moving to one knee and pushing himself slowly up until he was standing. "She's not going anywhere."

Ginny paced outside the hospital room in St. Mungo's where healers were currently working on Harry's shoulder. A Muggle bullet was rarely, if ever, seen in St. Mungo patients and there had been much activity in the ward as healers rushed in and out of Harry's room. Harry appeared to be more angry than in any pain, if the cursing coming from the room was any indication. Apparently things weren't as simple as removing the bullet. She felt like pounding on the door and demanding to be let in, but the staff had made it clear that she was not welcome.

The worst part was that she couldn't call anyone to come and sit with her. No one could know about how Harry being shot; in fact, most of the hospital staff and Ministry Aurors would be memory-charmed before the evening was through. His identity as a spy was too delicate and precious to let the information leak out. Roderick Bintliff had shown up an hour ago and had already begun the process of covering up the night's events. He seemed to blame her personally for Harry getting shot – and she supposed it had been her fault in a way; Harry had taken the bullet for her. Ginny didn't care what Bintliff thought. All she cared about was whether Harry would be okay.

After what seemed an eternity, but was probably only twenty minutes, the head Healer – designated by the particular brightness of his lurid green robes – stepped out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Well, he's resting," he said, tiredly to Ginny. "We managed to remove the bullet, but so few of us have experience with such a thing, I hope we got it all." He shook his head. "I've never seen a Muggle bullet in a wizard before. How did it happen?"

"We were in London," Ginny said, as if that explained it.

"Still," the Healer frowned. "It shouldn't have been able to penetrate Mr. Potter."

Ginny shrugged and didn't offer an opinion. She decided the less she said the better.

"Well," the Healer said, looking at her curiously. "I've given him a muscle repairing potion to re-knit the muscles that were punctured by the bullet. I'm afraid it's a rather painful process so I've given him a pain potion with a heavy sleeping draught in it. He lost some blood, though not as much as one would think in a case like this. But to be safe, I gave him a blood replenishing potion."

"Can I see him?"

The Healer nodded. "He was asking for you. I'm afraid you won't have much time. He'll probably be asleep soon."

"Thank you," Ginny said gratefully. She shook the Healer's hand and regretted just a little bit that he wouldn't remember this conversation by the next morning.

Harry looked up tiredly when she entered the room. Pain was written on every inch of his face.

"Oh, aghrá," Ginny said sympathetically. She hurried to his bedside and pressed her lips to his forehead. "I am so sorry."

Harry reached out and gripped her hand. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm just glad it was me and not you."

Ginny lifted her head from his and glared at him. "Oh, yeah, that reminds me. What do you think you were doing? You could have been hurt a lot worse! Honestly, Harry, you took five years off my life!"

"I couldn't let you get hurt, Nix," Harry swallowed. "I don't think I could have handled it."

Ginny sighed and brushed his fringe back from his forehead. "And you think it was easy for me? I was ready to kill her."

"You were bloody scary." Harry grimaced and shifted on the hospital bed. "Damn, I think the bullet hurt less than this muscle potion."

Ginny looked at the hospital door and narrowed her eyes. The lock clicked shut and she turned back to Harry. "I can't speed up the process for you, but I can take away some of the pain. Would you like me to try?"

"Please," Harry said gratefully. He lay back against the pillows and shut his eyes wearily. "What a night."

Ginny laid her hand on his shoulder. "Bintliff is beside himself trying to clean up the mess. Narcissa has been taken to some high-security cell in the Ministry until she can be moved to Azkaban. She's going to be charged with Tuelsburg's death, kidnapping and attempted murder."

Harry frowned and opened his eyes. "I thought she told you she didn't kill Tuelsburg?"

Ginny nodded. "She did. But I'm too tired to think of the implications of that right now."

"Someone is helping her," Harry said. "This won't be over until we find out who it is."

Ginny winced when she felt the pain Harry was going through as his muscles knitted themselves back together. "Three guesses as to who the mother of Draco's son is."

"Pansy?"

"Who else."

"Narciss and Pansy were pretty thick at that party," Harry acknowledged. "I wonder how old little Maximus is."

"He's got to be at least four," Ginny said, smoothing her hand gently over Harry's bandaged wound and letting her magic seep into the damage. Harry's face was slowly relaxing. "Most tests for magical power won't work on someone younger than four."

"Poor kid." Harry yawned. "He doesn't stand a chance, does he?"

Ginny didn't answer; she was concentrating on easing her healing magic deep into Harry's muscles so he could sleep through the night with relatively little pain.

"That feels good," Harry murmured, turning his head to rub his face against her arm. "I love you, and I'm so glad you are okay. I was scared when I realized you were missing from the Malfoy Mansion."

The events of the night suddenly caught up with Ginny as the endorphins from the past hour left her system. Snippets of the evening flashed through her mind and she remembered again the cold, stark terror she'd felt when Narcissa had fired her gun and Harry had jumped in front of it. She felt like bursting into tears.

"Thank you for saving me," she choked, suddenly unable to speak clearly.

Harry looked up at her. "Hey, don't cry."

"Sorry," Ginny sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. "I just can't get that image of you on the floor after she shot you out of my head. Right before I got really angry, I was very scared."

Harry tugged her onto the bed with him, and she curled up into his good side and rested her head on his chest. "I would do it again and again if it meant that you would be okay."

Ginny sighed, overcome with the feeling of being safe and loved; she was tempted to scream and yell at him for being so damn noble, but since he'd just taken a bullet for her, she decided to save it for another day.

They lay together in silence until she felt his deep breaths under her cheek indicating he was asleep. She slid off the bed and ran her fingertips across his jaw. He was so strong. And so brave. No one could ever tell her any different.

Ginny brought Harry home the next morning; although to say she "brought" him home was an exaggeration – all she really did was follow him exasperatedly. She had spent the night in his hospital room, determined that no one should disturb him, and when he had woken up at 5 o'clock in the morning, he'd stumbled out of bed, insisting he was ready to go home. She tried to pretend she could stop him if she wanted to, but she was just as anxious to get out there as he was – it was only her concern for his health that had insisted he stay put. He waited impatiently while she contacted Bintliff who grumbled at being woken up so early, but soon arrived with some high security Aurors who proceeded to memory charm the hospital staff and any one else who had seen Ginny Weasley apparate to St. Mungo's with a bloody Harry Potter.

Once she'd gotten him settled in their bedroom, she spoke sternly to him, "If you get out of this bed, not even Dobby will be able to save you. Do you understand?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but since she'd been rather agreeable to leaving the hospital, he decided not to argue. He took the potion the Healer had sent along and lapsed gratefully into sleep.

Ginny took a quick shower and crawled into bed beside Harry, careful to not jar his shoulder. When she woke four hours later, he was still asleep. She dressed quietly and tiptoed out of the room.

"Miss is wanting breakfast?" Dobby appeared at the foot of the staircase.

"Yes, thank you Dobby," she said gratefully. "I'm famished."

"Master Harry is okay?" The house-elf eyes were huge with worry.

Ginny smiled. "He'll be fine. He's just resting. I think we should just let him sleep for right now."

Dobby smiled back and hurried off to fix breakfast. She tried to convince him to eat with her, but the suggestion put a sort of horrified look on his face, and she had to rush to reassure him. He managed a conversation with her, however, and Ginny scarfed down the eggs and toast he'd made while listening to his merry tale of life at Hogwart's.

After breakfast, Ginny was torn. She knew what she should do, knew what had to be done, but she was reluctant to do it while Harry was lying upstairs knocked out on a pain potion.

Deciding she would probably be back before he awoke, Ginny scribbled a short note and sent it to his bedside so he could read it if he woke up while she was gone. She went to the coat rack and gathered her scarf and mittens.

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Miss Ginny?" The house-elf appeared quickly at her side, the breakfast table linens clutched in his tiny hands.

"I'm going out. There's something I've got to do before it's too late, but I'm worried about Harry being left alone. Will you keep an eye on him?"

"Of course." Dobby seemed a bit offended that she thought he would do otherwise.

"I mean it, Dobby," she said, shrugging into a light jacket. "No one but me is allowed here. Not even family. Someone might be looking for us after what happened last night. I don't think they could have made the connection yet, but just in case don't let anyone but me apparate in."

"Yes, Miss Ginny." Dobby's voice was grav,e and he straightened up to his full height as he accepted the mission she was laying before him.

"I'll be back soon, hopefully." She smiled briefly at him and apparated out.

She arrived at Ron and Hermione's house. Praying Ron would be gone, she knocked on the door. She needed to speak privately with Hermione and unfortunately, the Floo network could be tapped.

"Ginny!" Hermione's face broke into a delighted smile when she opened the door and motioned for her to come in. "What brings you by?"

Ginny paused to kiss her friend on the cheek and rub her stomach affectionately before walking into the nearby living room. "It's not a social call, I'm afraid."

The grin dropped from Hermione's face and her expression became immediately business-like. Ginny wondered if this was what she looked like all day at the Department of Mysteries. Hermione's professionalism was the reason Ginny knew she could ask her this question. What the hell -- Hermione already suspected what she and Harry did anyway.

Ginny pulled out her wand and cast a privacy spell. "I need to ask you something, and you're won't understand why I'm asking, but I need you to not ask questions and just answer me as best you can, okay?"

Hermione looked startled, but nodded and motioned for her to continue.

Ginny took a deep breath. "If someone, a witch, wanted to hide the birth and existence of a child, how would they do it?"

Hermione's mouth opened immediately, and Ginny could see the question forming on the tip of her tongue, but she caught herself and frowned thoughtfully as she considered the question.

"You've checked the Ministry registry of births?"

Ginny shook her head. "Assume they would have found a way around that. It would have been something they wouldn't have wanted recorded."

"So, a home birth, in secret," Hermione mused. She tugged on the end of her ponytail. "But there's got to be a record somewhere, because all magical births are recorded by Hogwarts – you could check there. McGonagall would probably let you."

"What if," Ginny began carefully, "what if it wasn't a magical birth? What if the baby born was a squib?"

Hermione's look turned triumphant. "Then the baby would have to have been tested at some point – if you're sure it's a squib that is."

"I'm sure," Ginny said firmly.

"Well, all tests are done by the Department of Magical Testing and the results are recorded." She looked at Ginny uncertainly. "But if they went to all that trouble to hide the birth, they probably would have hidden the test results as well."

"Right, so what can I do?"

Hermione looked around guiltily as if someone was watching and stepped closer. "This is important?"

"Life or death." Ginny didn't feel this was an exaggeration. Whoever had helped Narcissa kill Tuelsburg was still at large; and they most likely HAD magical power.

"Cast another privacy spell," Hermione ordered.

Ginny's eyes widened, but she took out her wand again and said another spell, being sure to direct it towards the windows and doors.

"There's a secret registry in the Department of Mysteries," Hermione said in a low voice. "It records the testing of squibs. When the tests are being administered in the Magical Testing Department, the results are also recorded by a special quill in the Department of Mysteries."

"Why is it such a secret?"

Hermione shook her head. "Squibs weren't always so accepted as they are now. Pureblood families persecuted them and magical families went to incredible lengths to hide it if they had a Squib. The Department of Mysteries was run by purebloods at that time, and they wanted to make sure they knew about all the Squibs." She shrugged. "No one ever got rid of it; and it's probably been forgotten by now. I only know about it because I was doing some obscure research in that section of the Department library."

"How do I get in to see it?"

"It's a Saturday so the Department is closed, but it's not easily accessible. I can't give you my password – they would find out and it wouldn't do you any good anyway. It can only be used by me."

"Where is it kept?"

"The northwest corner of the library. There's a door that's locked and marked 'Employees Only.' So you'd have to break into the library and that room to get a look at it." Hermione offered this information freely. She trusted Ginny implicitly.

"That's not a problem," Ginny said confidently. "Don't worry."

"Ginny, should you memory-charm me?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Ginny hesitated. She hadn't let anything really important slip, except that she was looking for a squib baby born to magical parents. Even though she was reasonably certain that Pansy Parkinson was the mother of Draco's illegitimate child, they had to be sure. Narcissa had gone to great lengths to keep it a secret, and if Bintliff was to be believed, she wasn't going to give the information up.

"It's up to you," she finally said.

"I'd prefer not to be, but if you think it's necessary then maybe you should."

"I don't know how important this information is, Hermione," Ginny said honestly.

"Then don't," Hermione said. "I'll just try to forget this conversation, shall I?"

"That'd be best."

Breaking into the Department of Mysteries was no big deal. After a brief return home to check on Harry and grab his invisibility cloak, Ginny apparated into the atrium and took the stairs down to the basement. In less than two minutes, she had bypassed the wards on the Department and made her way to the locked room Hermione had described to her. This room was more protected, and she worked a few minutes to make sure she didn't trip any alarms. She felt a brief twinge of guilt for doing this without Harry – they were partners after all – but he was still passed out at home.

The quill that recorded the testing of squibs wasn't hard to locate. She began her searching with their last year of Hogwart's. It didn't take long; there weren't a whole lot of squibs born every year. She soon located a record for "Maximus Malfoy" who, according to his listed birth date, was five years old. She rolled her eyes at Pansy Parkinson's stupidity. If she had wanted to hide the identity of a child, she shouldn't have given him his father's name. But maybe Narcissa had insisted. After confirming that Pansy was indeed the mother, Ginny placed the book back on its shelf and left the room. She was moving silently through the library when she heard the soft squeak of the library door. She froze.

Near-silent footsteps padded towards her and Ginny quietly backed up so the person, whoever it was, wouldn't run into her. She couldn't be certain they were there for her, but alarm bells were going off inside her head. It was Saturday; no one should be here.

The figure moved quickly, but silently, around the tables and stacks of moving books. He – Ginny was certain it was a he – had a wand in one hand and seemed to have a clear destination in mind. He paused at a shelf of books and whispered "Lumos." Ginny gave a soft gasp when she realized he was looking at the same material she'd been using to research the strange runes written on the talisman that had started this whole thing.

The man's head whipped around, and his wand light went out instantly. Ginny cursed silently to herself and began edging towards the door. She'd almost reached it when she tripped on the edge of the rug and her foot caught on the invisibility cloak. The cloak flew up and almost at the same time, she felt a heavy thump on her left temple. The floor rose up to meet her; the last thing she saw before she passed out completely was a figure standing over her, a lit wand in his hand.

Harry rolled over in bed and pushed himself up to a sitting position. As if he'd been waiting for Harry to wake up, Dobby popped into the room.

"Hey, Dobby," Harry smiled wanly at the house-elf's clear concern. "I'm fine. Really."

But the house-elf would not be dissuaded from his job. He fluffed the pillows behind Harry's back and immediately brought him some pumpkin soup. He watched carefully while Harry ate every drop and then took the dirty dishes to the kitchen before returning with a hot cup of tea.

Harry took the tea gratefully and as he sipped, he asked, "Where's Ginny?"

"Miss Ginny had an errand. She asked that Dobby watch over Master Harry and takes care of him until she returned." Dobby handed him the note Ginny had left on Harry's nightstand and busied himself with straightening the bedclothes.

Harry read the note and checked his watch. Frowning, he asked, "When did she leave?"

"About 10 o'clock this morning."

"Did she say when she would be back?"

Dobby shook his head. "She just asked me to make sure no one was let into the house."

Harry nodded in approval. Until they found Narcissa's accomplice, it was a good idea; especially since he wasn't in the best of health.

He stretched and winced a little when the muscles flexed in his hurt shoulder. He rolled his arm gingerly. It felt better, but it was still sore. Probably another one of Ginny's healing sessions would make it feel like new.

He frowned, thinking of Ginny. She'd said in her note that she was going to find out who the mother of Draco Malfoy's baby was, but she hadn't said how she intended to do such a thing. And it was after 7 o'clock now. Where was she?

Harry had managed to take a quick shower and had just fallen back into a light sleep when he heard the distinct sound of apparition downstairs. Ginny's voice as she spoke to Dobby floated up the stairs, and he felt an anticipatory tightening in his gut.

"Hey, how's my hero!" Ginny's voice was bright and cheerful, but Harry sensed a tension in her tone.

"Better," he admitted. "C'mere."

She approached the bed and leaned down to kiss him. Harry quickly deepened her gentle peck, and she opened her mouth with a protesting moan.

"I'm feeling a LOT better, Nix," he whispered against her lips.

She groaned again and pushed her self away from his seeking hands. "I've got to bathe first. I was deep in the Department of Mysteries library and I feel all dusty." She walked away and stripped off her clothing on her way to the shower.

Harry waited drowsily until Ginny crawled into bed with him. She smelled fresh and clean, and he regretted instantly that he hadn't been awake to watch her as she walked to bed naked.

"Are you really feeling better?"

"Much," he sighed. "Look." He moved his arm up and down and rotated his shoulder. She laid a soft hand on his muscles, and he felt her magic soothing away the last of the soreness.

"Thanks."

He rolled over quickly and wrapped his arms around her so she couldn't get away. "Now, tell me what happened today. I've been patient long enough."

Ginny laughed lightly and kissed him on the nose. "I sucked it up and went to see Hermione…no, don't get upset. She was very helpful actually and didn't ask any questions. She told me exactly what to do. It took very little time at all."

"So where have you been this whole time? You've been gone for hours."

Ginny hesitated and shifted in his arms.

"Ginny-" he warned.

She huffed and said, "Okay, but don't get mad. I was in the library at the Department of Mysteries and someone else came in. I was under your invisibility cloak so I wasn't too worried, but then I noticed he was looking at the same books I'd used to try to decode the talisman. That's when I tripped and well…someone hit me on the head. I've spent the last five hours passed out on the Ministry floor."

Harry stiffened, a tremor running through his body. Rage was swift, volcanic. He swore very softly beneath his breath. "I'm going to turn on a light and look at you. How bad were you hurt and where the hell were the security Aurors?" He hissed the question at her.

When she didn't answer, Harry waved a hand and the lamp beside her flicked on. He caught her chin firmly in his hand, turning her face to inspect the damage. His gut tightened; something very dangerous welling up deep inside him roared for release. It was the second time in less than 24 hours that someone had hurt her, and he hadn't been around to stop it. The fact that he'd just taken a bullet for her conveniently slipped his mind.

"Damn it Ginny, did you see who did this?" he persisted.

"I was just turning when he hit me. I had a brief impression of him and then I was on the floor." She traced his frown with the pad of her finger. "I'm fine, a little stiff, but I'll live."

His hands moved over her head. He felt a large bump on her temple, and she winced when the pads of his fingers gently examined her.

A dark, predatory expression crossed his face, shimmered in the depths of his eyes, a menacing threat that caused her to shiver. At once he leaned forward to brush her temple and cheek with the warmth of his mouth. "Bintliff said yesterday that the ministry was supposed to increase security in that area. Where the hell were the guards when this was happening? Why weren't they watching? I'm going to call Bintliff first thing in the morning. You should never have gone alone." His Ginny was hurt and it killed him that, once again, he hadn't been there to protect her.

His tenderness and concern was so beautiful that it seeped through her pores, deep into her body. As always, it moved her as nothing else could. Somehow her head throbbed less with his concern. She touched his face gently, wanting to soothe him. "You know it was my decision alone and no one could have stopped me."

"I can't help wanting to protect you, Ginny. I'd walk through hell to do it. I know that makes me sound like some sort of caveman, but you're stuck with who I am. I can't be any different."

"I don't want you to be different," she reassured him. "I like you just the way you are." It was true. In spite of herself, in spite of the fact that she knew she could take care of herself, she loved how he was so protective of her.

"You're magic, Ginny, sheer magic. And you're mine, my everything. You have more courage in your little finger than most people have in their entire body. You have a brain, a sense of humor, a smile that knocks me over, and every single time I'm near you, I want to tear your clothes off. And damn it, I'm not going to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me." Her lashes lifted to give him a view of her warm brown eyes rimmed in a fiery gold. "I knew you'd get around to sex sooner or later."

His hands slipped around to cup her breasts beneath the sheet. She fit into his palms, warm and petal soft. "I forgot to say you always smell good too." He inhaled deeply, taking her scent into his lungs where he hoped it would always stay.

"Stop deliberately distracting me, Ginny. I'm trying to give you a lecture."

"I'm not doing anything," she purred, arching into him. Her breast slipped from his grasp and one rosy pink nipple popped through his fingers. Harry bent his head and closed his lips over the tip of it. He refused to increase the pressure; he just ran his lips gently over and over the puckered skin as it swelled and grew beneath his mouth. Ginny whimpered and arched further into him until, with a soft chuckle, he opened his mouth and sucked the tip of her breast into his hot mouth.

She sighed gratefully and shifted beneath him. One small hand traveled up to tunnel through his hair while the other slid around his side and brushed down over his lower back.

Harry ran his hand down her shoulder and arm, tugging the sheet away from her warm body as he did so.

"So beautiful," he whispered as her naked flesh was exposed to his eyes. He slid down to nuzzle the skin between her breasts. Both of her hands gripped his hair as he nipped tiny bites on her sensitive skin.

"You're okay? This is okay? It won't hurt you?" Ginny was breathless and trying to remember that Harry had just been shot by a madwoman.

In answer, Harry moved his hips and pressed his erection against her thigh. She groaned when she felt the hardness of him.

"Promise me you'll never do that again," she said softly, pressing kisses on his shoulder.

"What? This?" He rubbed along her thigh.

"No," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. "Get shot. Never again. Promise me."

"I can't," he said, moving up to mouth the side of her neck. "Not if someone is shooting at you. I'll stand in front of you every time, Ginny."

"Harry," she groaned. "Don't you get it?" She tugged his head up from her navel and stared at him fiercely, her small hands gripping the side of his face. "If you die, I die. Understand? Without you…damnit, Harry, there's nothing. You die, I die. Get it?"

Harry swallowed under the intensity of her gaze. "Right. No dying then."

Ginny mock growled at him and tightened her thighs around his hips just before she flipped them over so she was on top. "When we're done with this, I'm really going to yell at you for jumping in front of me, by the way."

"Fine. We'll never stop."

She grinned and slid down his body, her legs spread wide as she straddled his thighs. Harry got a whiff of her arousal as she moved and his cock twitched. She laughed. "He's waving at me!"

Harry laughed too. "He's very happy to see you," he said, propping himself up on his elbows to watch her. "He's missed you all day."

"Poor guy," she said sympathetically, reaching out with her thumb and forefinger to encircle his shaft. "He's used to seeing a bit more of me, I guess."

She lowered her head and Harry watched in fascination as her pink tongue stretched out and tasted the drop of pre-come on his cock. It barely grazed the tip of him, but he felt it like an electric shock straight to his balls. He collapsed back on the pillows as Ginny scooted forward and nuzzled the root of his penis with her nose. She ran her cheek up the side, following the veins with her soft skin. When she finally reached the top again, her mouth slid down so slowly to take him inside, Harry thought he might explode before she finished.

The next few minutes were a lesson in patience as Ginny slowly tortured him to death with her mouth. Finally he could take it no more, and he begged as he tugged on her long, red tresses. "Please. Gods. Stop."

She lifted her head, and Harry swiftly sat up and tumbled her onto her back. Reaching down, he positioned himself at her entrance. "We'll do you next time," he panted, slowly penetrating her. Her silken muscles stretched and welcomed him inside, sucking and pulling him until he was firmly seated inside her. He laid his forehead on hers, panting with the effort to remain still. He wanted to enjoy the way her body was gripping his for just a moment. His arms slid underneath her shoulders and his hands gripped the sides of her head as sweat ran down his back.

"Move, damn you," Ginny said through gritted teeth.

"Not yet-" he broke off with a cry as she squeezed him with her vaginal muscles. It was like a wet, hot, tight silken fist had just closed over his cock. "Dammit, Nix, I want to enjoy this."

"Oh, you will, trust me," she gasped, squeezing him again.

He cursed, and she opened her eyes to bore into his. They were the familiar golden, swirling circle of fire. "Share with me," she said. "I want everything, Harry."

He could do no less than answer her, and he let the doors on his magic fly open as they poured into each other. Ginny's eyes went wide when his magic met hers and as the golden aura burst forth, he felt her climax, her sheath rippling up and down his shaft. Her head fell back and her throat arched as the orgasm swept through her.

"No," he growled, moving his hips. "Again. With me this time." Harry pulled out of her and slammed back again, tunneling through her until he touched the tip of her womb. Again and again, he repeated the motion, until Ginny was chanting in Gaelic and Harry wasn't certain he was a separate being anymore.

The orgasm ripped through him without warning, his cock swelling even further before bursting inside of her. Ginny felt his hot seed spurt into her and the idea of it sent her over the edge again. She spiraled up and away again as pleasure ripped through both of them. Harry shouted her name hoarsely and Ginny screamed as fire burst around them. The gold aura swirled around their entwined bodies and settled on their skin.

Harry shuddered as they both came back down. He slowly withdrew his magic, but stayed inside of her, his erection quickly softening. He still couldn't catch his breath, let alone move.

"Well, I guess you are feeling better," Ginny finally said.

It struck Harry as funny, and he chuckled, burying his face in her neck. "A lot better, actually."

"I love you." She twisted her head and kissed his jaw.

"Me too."

A persistent knock on the bedroom penetrated Harry's sleep. He had fallen asleep still halfway on top of Ginny and she was curled underneath him, her fists curled under her cheek. Harry shifted off of her, certain he was imagining the knock.

But the noise persisted. Grumbling, Harry got out of bed, favoring his shoulder. He quickly tied his robe on and quietly opened the door.

"Dobby?" What is it?"

The house-elf was in his pyjamas, a sleeping cap perched comically between his giant ears. "It's Mr. Ronald. He's on the floo. He says you and Miss Ginny must come to St. Mungo's right away."

Harry's eyes widened. "Is everything okay? Did he say why?"

Dobby nodded and then smiled. It was a happy smile and Harry felt a sudden rush of affection for him. "Miss Hermione is having her babies."

"So soon?"

Dobby nodded frantically. "That is why you must hurry!"

Harry thanked him and said, "Tell Ron we'll be right there."

Dobby hurried away, and Harry shut the door behind him before going to Ginny's side of the bed. "Ginny," he said gently but hurriedly. "Wake up."

Ginny inhaled sharply and sat up. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Hermione's in labor," he said, already moving away to grab some clothes. "We've got to go to St. Mungo's."

Ginny cursed and sprang out of bed. She moved quickly to the bureau and pulled on some underwear.

"Is it too soon?" he asked her.

"I don't think so," she said, carefully. "I'll know more after I feel them."

They dressed in record time and raced down the stairs to the Floo in the library. Harry grabbed the Floo powder in one hand and Ginny in the other. With a nervous Dobby standing by, they whirled away to the hospital.


	19. Chapter 19 Namesake

Chapter 19

Harry and Ginny arrived via floo into the main atrium of St. Mungo's Hospital with little fanfare. Ginny couldn't believe the lack of activity around them as they hurried towards the maternity floor – didn't these people know that Hermione, her best friend and sister-in-law, was about to have a _baby; _that her youngest brother was about to _become a father?_ Shouldn't everyone be as excited as she was? It occurred to her that this was the first Weasley birth she'd been present for; she'd been in Paris for the rest of them.

They rushed into a waiting elevator and Harry tapped his foot impatiently as they ascended the floors. Ginny pressed her hand to her heart, willing it to stop racing. She was nervous – being in hospitals always made her so because her emphatic powers kicked in. She'd almost forgotten; when they had Harry here just 24 hours ago, he'd been in such a secluded area that she hadn't been around any sick or suffering people.

When she'd first become an empath, Ginny had to learn very early on that she couldn't heal everyone. Helping a woman in labor was particularly tricky; she would have to focus only on Hermione and her pain without worrying about other patients in the hospital. Ginny had never actually helped a woman in labor, but her mentor in Paris had warned her about it; a woman's body had to go through the pain of childbirth. Ginny could not stop the labor, even though her empathy might want her to do so. She could only dull the pain for Hermione.

"Are you okay?" Harry looked at concernedly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, you know. Women have babies every day."

Ginny fought not to roll her eyes. "Hermione's going to be in pain," she said shortly. "It's going to be hard not to help her too much."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stop the labor," Ginny said impatiently. "But my empathy will want me to do so because the labor will be what is causing the pain. Stopping the labor will hurt the babies. So I have to concentrate very hard not to let the magic get out of hand."

"Oh," Harry said. "You've done this before then?"

She shook her head. "No, I've only heard about it. This is my first labor."

A thought occurred to Harry. "What about when you have a baby?" He asked suddenly. "Will you be able to help yourself?"

Again she shook her head. "No. My empathy doesn't work on me. I'll have to do it the old-fashioned way."

Harry winced. "Natural childbirth?"

"Hell, no," she said. "Potions. Lots of potions. Probably from the eighth month on."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal a sterile, but bustling ward, that was surprisingly quiet given the nature of what was going on behind the closed doors. The healers probably cast silencing charms, Ginny thought approvingly.

After Harry asked at the desk, they hurried down a side hallway to a suite of rooms reserved for VIP patients. Ginny doubted Ron and Hermione had asked for such treatment, but Harry explained in a lowered that they'd probably been put there because of the potential publicity. Ron and Hermione Weasley were still rather famous in the Wizarding world, and a picture of their newborns in the hospital would still be worth some galleons.

They knocked on the door that was labeled "Weasley" and a frazzled voice bade them to enter.

Ron looked up from his seat on a nearby chair when the door opened and sheer relief blossomed on his face. "Bloody hell," he managed, coming forward. He ignored Harry's welcoming handshake and grabbed Ginny, dragging her back to Hermione's room.

"You've got to help her, Ginny. She's in a lot of pain, but she refuses to take any sort of potion. The healers are beside themselves over her. She's already hexed them twice."

"You don't want to know how many times I've been hexed," he continued in a low voice. "Probably won't be sitting down for a week."

He ignored Harry's snort of laughter and pushed open the door to another more private waiting room, shoved Ginny inside and pulled it shut behind her. "Don't come out until she's reasonable," he yelled.

"Git," Ginny shouted back at him before opening the door again, the outrage plain on her face. "She's giving birth to your children and you think she should be reasonable?" She reached forward and grabbed Ron by the ear, twisting it until he cried out in pain. "You'll get in here and you'll be supportive and kind and thank your lucky stars you've found a woman willing to give you children, you bloody-"

"Ginny!"

Ginny cringed and turned around to see her Mum and Mrs. Granger sitting on a nearby settee.

"Sorry, Mum," she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Mrs. Granger."

"I daresay he deserved it," Molly said darkly. "Ron! Go and comfort your wife. Don't be such an ass."

Harry's snort of laughter turned into a hearty chuckle as Ron stomped off through another doorway. They soon heard a murmured soothing tone from the delivery room followed quickly by a sniffle and a harsh expletive. 

"He's probably just nervous," Mrs. Granger said, waving her hand. "Hermione's father was the same way when I was in labor with her. Labor is very painful for women and the men who love them don't know quite what to do about it."

Ginny shrugged off the jumper she'd thrown over her long-sleeved t-shirt when Dobby had woken them up to tell them to go to St. Mungo's and pushed up her sleeves to her elbows. "I'm going in," she told Harry. "If you see spell lights you'd better come rescue me."

"Sure it's all right?"

"Please, I doubt she's going to hurt me. She might hurt Ron though, and I won't have the patience to deal with him. When I said 'rescue me,' I meant rescue me from Ron."

He smiled and kissed her quickly before giving her a shove towards the door. "Go on, then and take care of our girl."

Ginny nodded at the women on the waiting room couch and cautiously opened the door to the delivery room. Ron was leaning over Hermione, whispering in her ear while he smoothed the hair back from her forehead. Ginny smiled at the tender scene. She let the door close quietly behind her. Hermione's eyes sprang open at the soft click of the door latch.

"Ginny," she breathed. "Thank goodness."

"Hermione," Ginny chided, moving to the other side of her bed, "why won't you let them give you a potion?"

Hermione shook her head wearily. "I read it's not good for the babies. Besides, I knew you would take care of me."

Ginny shook her head too. "I can only do so much, I'll have to be very careful, 'Mione. You _know_ that." They had actually already discussed this. Hermione had said that she trusted Ginny, but Ginny wasn't sure she entirely trusted herself.

"Please, Ginny," Hermione begged. Her hands ran over her swollen belly as if she could soothe it by touch. "I know you can do it."

Ginny sighed and carefully sat on the edge of the bed next to Hermione's stomach. "Relax," she instructed. "Are you having a contraction right now?"

"Trust me," Ron grimaced. "You'd know if she was having one right now."

"Okay," Ginny said, "I can't do anything until you're contracting. Let me know when it's coming."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded before lying back against the pillows. "It's almost time for another one."

Ginny placed her hands on either side of Hermione's stomach. "Okay, I'm just going to take a look and see how they're doing okay?"

Taking a page out of Harry's book, Ginny let herself slip away until she felt like she was a tiny light. She stretched out her senses and hovered over Ron and Hermione's twins. One of them was already in the birthing canal while the other waited impatiently behind. Ginny ignored that and checked them to make sure that, though they were early, they were ready to be born. She felt herself smile at the fully-formed tiny fingers and toes and mentally brushed the cheek of one. It reacted and Ginny's smile grew. She'd never realized how sensitive babies in the womb could be.

She sensed a sudden shifting in Hermione's muscles and returned quickly to herself, knowing a contraction was coming. "Okay," she crooned to Hermione, "another contraction is coming. Close your eyes and breathe through it."

"Easier for you to say," Hermione snapped at her.

Ron looked stricken at his wife's tone, but Ginny shrugged it off. "Just do your best," she said.

Hermione steeled herself as the pain hit.

"Relax," Ginny murmured. She let her empathy seep out of her; slowly soothing the pain the contracting muscles left behind. She was very careful not to stop the muscles from contracting; only easing the pain afterwards.

Hermione breathed deeply through her mouth. "That is so much better," she groaned.

"It's not too much?" Ron asked anxiously.

"No," Hermione gritted her teeth.

For the next five hours, the process was repeated every time Hermione had a contraction. Eventually Ginny had to start pulling the power back even further as even she could not expend such magical energy for such a long period of time. Taking even the smallest portion of Hermione's pain made her hips and womb ache.

"I think you're doing too much," Harry said in a low voice, when she'd stepped out of the room for a minute. Her face was pale and her back stiff. 

"It's only a little bit longer," Ginny assured him. "They're nearly ready. In fact," she looked over at her Mum, "I think you should get the Healer."

Molly bustled off and Harry brushed Ginny's hair out of her face. Smoothing her hair back into its ponytail, he said a spell and fastened the strands back together.

"I think we should adopt," Ginny said plainly. "I'm not sure I could do this. Hermione's amazing."

"Potions," Harry reminded her. "Think of the potions. Hermione doesn't have to be in this much pain."

The Healer soon arrived, and when he announced that Hermione could begin pushing, Ginny gratefully left the room, knowing she shouldn't intrude on what was sure to be a private moment between her brother and sister-in-law.

"Thanks," Hermione said gratefully as Ginny leaned down to kiss her gently on the temple. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

"I know," Ginny said cheekily. "You can name one of them after me though."

"Are they girls?" Hermione's eyes grew wide.

Ginny laughed. "I'll never tell."

"How much longer?" Harry groaned, letting his head hit the back of his chair.

"Not much, dear," Molly said. Her knitting needles clacked rapidly together as she finished up the second baby blanket for her newest grandchildren.

Ginny and Harry both winced as Hermione gave another bloodcurdling scream from the delivery room. The healer had cast a silencing charm, but it wasn't strong enough and they could both hear through it.

Ron suddenly shouted. They heard Hermione's exultant cry and then…a baby wailing.

Harry gaped at her. "Wow."

"I know," Ginny whispered in awe. She brushed tears back from her eyes and reached for a tissue.

"What is it?" Mr. Weasley asked from the couch. He and Mr. Granger had arrived several hours ago. Ron's brothers and their wives had been in and out all day. Everyone was waiting for the birth of the twins.

"One of the babies is here," Ginny said, gripping Harry's hand. "That was amazing. One minute, she was screaming and then –"

"And then there was a baby," Harry finished.

"How do you know that?" Mrs. Granger asked. "I can't hear a thing."

"The healer needs to brush up on his silencing charms," Harry explained.

"Brace yourself," Ginny warned. "She's started on the other one."

"She must be so tired," Mrs. Granger murmured. "One is exhausting enough."

Ginny guessed the first one had paved the way because Weasley Twin Number Two arrived a lot faster than his brother. Soon, the Healer lifted the silencing charm and the entire waiting room could hear both babies crying over Hermione's soft sobbing.

"Bloody hell," Ron said once and the room erupted into tearful laughter as they waited.

The door opened and Ron burst into the room, his eyes wild with joy and pride. "I have two sons!" He shouted, grabbing Harry and pulling him into a back breaking hug.

Harry hugged him back just as hard, his heart swelling with love for his best friends and their new family. Ron's hands fisted on the back of Harry's shirt and he held on until the lump in his throat disappeared. They pulled back and Harry cuffed him on the shoulder.

"Congratulations, mate."

Ron grinned at him again and they both laughed before hugging again and slapping each other on the back.

Ginny hugged her mum who had broken into tears at the announcement while Mr. and Mrs. Granger held each other.

Ron turned to his dad, tears in his eyes. "Dad, can you believe it?"

Arthur, who was fighting back his own tears, laughed with joy and pulled him into a hug. Father and son stood in the center of the room, swaying slightly. "You're going to be a wonderful father," he rasped to his youngest son.

Ginny felt tears spring to her eyes again and she chanced a look at Harry. He was looking at Ron and her dad with a wistful expression; she knew he was probably thinking that he would never get to share a moment like that with his own father. She let go of her Mum and slid her arms around Harry's waist.

He put his arm absentmindedly around her shoulder and squeezed her gently. She left him to his thoughts and stayed by his side.

Later, when the babies had been cleaned and wrapped in warm blankets, Ginny, Harry and the new grandparents stepped cautiously into the room.

"Mum!" Hermione said, lifting her head from the bundle on her lap.

Mrs. Granger rushed to her daughter and Ron walked over to place his own bundle in Harry's arms. Ginny could tell it wasn't the first time he had held a Weasley newborn, but the look of tender awe on his face still made her feel like crying again.

"What's his name?" Harry asked softly, while Hermione showed off the other twin to his grandparents.

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, that's the thing mate, we um…well, we named him Harry. After you."

Harry looked up at Ron, startled. "Me? He's got my name?"

Ron shrugged. "Couldn't think of anyone better to name my son after. I was kinda hoping you'd be Godfather too."

Harry's eyes blinked rapidly, and he handed baby Harry to Ginny before pulling Ron into another hug.

"We're hugging too much," Ron muttered. "We're starting to act like a bunch of girls."

"Just shut up," Harry laughed and thumped him on the back. He pulled back and gripped the back of Ron's neck and looked over at Hermione who was smiling at them brilliantly. "You guys…I can't tell you what that means to me."

"What's this guy's name?" Molly asked. She was staring down at her second new grandson, softly smoothing down the tuft of red hair poking out from the blankets.

"John," Hermione said. She looked at her dad. "After you, Dad."

Mr. Granger swallowed and looked down at his namesake in Molly's arms. "That's – that's…thank you." He reached out with a finger to stroke John's head and smiled gratefully when Molly handed him over. "Blimey, look at him. He looks just like a Weasley."

"But he has your nose, dear," his wife said, looking over his shoulder.

"Thank goodness," Ron said sincerely.

Ginny looked down at baby Harry in her arms. His eyes were closed and she marveled how tiny he was. Even though she'd "visited" them several times in Hermione's stomach, she'd never actually seen them. It had been more of sensation of shapes and shadows. Mostly she'd been able to touch their budding consciousness.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at his aunt. His eyes were the same bright blue as his father's and Ginny wondered briefly if they would stay that way. She smiled at him, wondering if he recognized her. Lifting him up, she pressed a soft kiss on his downy red hair.

"I promise," she swore, "I will always have Chocolate Frogs."

Nearly twelve hours after they'd left, Harry and Ginny returned home exhausted.

"Remind me to tell Hermione to go into labor in the afternoon next time," Harry yawned, falling face first on the bed. He was still clothed and Ginny didn't have the energy to make him take his shoes off the bed.

She stretched, rolling her shoulders and twisting her torso to get out the tension that had developed the past few hours. "I'm going to take a shower."

Harry mumbled something incoherent and Ginny stripped wearily as she made her way to the bathroom. She showered mindlessly. It had been awhile since she'd expended her empathy powers for such a long time. She cursed silently, realising that she was out of practice. She had to find a better way of balancing her magical gifts.

She returned to the bedroom, not bothering to put on pyjamas, and crawled into bed. They'd left the bed in shambles after their haste to get ready after Dobby had woken them up to go to the hospital, but now the bed was clean and crisp looking. Dobby had obviously been at work.

"Harry?" Ginny nudged his leg with her foot after she'd smoothed out the covers over her legs. "Get up and take off your clothes so you can come to bed."

Harry mumbled something into his pillow that sounded suspiciously like "too tired," but managed to shove his trainers off onto the floor.

"Want me to burn off the rest of your clothes? It wouldn't take long."

Harry lifted his head and glared at her. "Don't even think about it."

Ginny chuckled and settled down into her pillow.

"That gives me an idea though," Harry said and a moment later, his clothes disappeared magically.

"Where did you send them?" she asked curiously.

"Downstairs," he yawned, crawling up to the head of the bed and sliding under the blankets. "C'mere. I'm cold all of the sudden." He reached for her and tugged her across the bed and into his arms.

"Yeah," he sighed, turning onto his side. "That's better." He wrapped his arms around her waist and snuggled his face into her neck. Although she was weary, Ginny lifted a hand and flicked a finger at the fireplace across the room. Dobby had laid fresh wood down and it immediately caught fire when Ginny shot a spark at it. Soon warmth filled the entire room (helped a little by Ginny) and they collapsed into sleep.

Harry woke before dawn. Ginny didn't know he often awoke this early – and many times, he would eventually fall back to sleep – but it was his favorite time of day. He loved to bury his face against Ginny's warm breasts and listen as London awoke while he held her to him. He felt more alive, more complete in those moments just before dawn, before the day's demands were on him. Ginny breathed so softly, in and out, warm and welcoming, her flesh a lush invitation. He knew every line, every hollow. Her body was etched deeply into his memory. He knew her form better than she knew it, and he knew every way to please her.

Harry smiled and buried his face in the valley between her breasts just to inhale her scent. She always seemed to smell of flowers. He was certain it was the soap she used. His tongue swirled over her nipple, a lazy, leisurely movement. Life was perfect at dawn. He breathed her in. His Ginny. His world.

He nuzzled her breast, swirled his tongue over her tempting nipple a second time and drew soft flesh into his mouth, suckling gently. Ginny stirred, shifted to bring her body more aligned with his, to arch her back a little more to offer her breasts while her arms crept around his head to cradle him close. He loved her reaction, that first drowsy offering of her body to him. He knew when he plunged his finger deep inside her to test her readiness, she would already be hot and wet and welcoming.

Making love to Ginny was always an adventure. They would be so tender together it would bring tears to his eyes, or they would be rough and wild and totally uninhibited. Ginny would rake his back, dig her nails into his flesh or ride him with wild abandon. Sometimes he spent an hour just loving on her, feasting on her. Her body so familiar to him, yet he was full and hard and bursting to be inside her, so eager his body was painful. Like the first time. Like each and every time he touched her.

His hands moved over her body, warm, soft flesh, tantalizing, tempting, and a delight he could hardly believe was finally his. He lifted his face to hers, fastened his mouth on hers, a hard, possessive kiss that took their breath so that they had to exchange air while the world rocked around them. Her mouth was hot and sweet and achingly familiar.

She laughed softly into his mouth as he devoured her, fed on her, kissing her over and over without restraint. He wanted her so much, wanted to be buried deep inside her where he belonged, where the world was always right. He wrapped his arms around her while her hands explored the muscles over his chest. There was possession in her touch as she skimmed his belly and found the hard length of his erection. She closed her fist over him tightly and he gasped with the pleasure and the pain of it.

"I want to taste you this morning," he whispered. "I can't wait to feel you squirming the way you do, your fist yanking at my hair, telling me to hurry, hurry, hurry." He kissed her chin, her throat, the soft swell of her breast.

"Oh really." Her voice was a teasing lilt. "And here I thought I was going to drive you out of your mind with my mouth this morning."

Her fingers danced over him, the way only Ginny could do, teasing and stroking, small caresses designed to drive him mad. If she took him in her mouth, he was going to explode, a heady, wild eruption that would make her laugh and demand satisfaction.

He shifted his weight and dragged her body beneath his, his knee sliding between her legs with expert precision, opening her beckoning heat to him. He settled over her, into her, pressing against her tight opening, already anticipating the pleasure he would give her. He moved away from the temptation, sliding down, his tongue swirling in her sexy belly button, his teeth nipping at her flat stomach. His thigh pressed against hers in demand, shifting her leg to the side.

His lips trailed down until his mouth hovered over the center of her. He loved this moment too – just before he closed his mouth over her, there would be a beat of time where she held her breath in anticipation. When he would finally stroke her with his tongue, she would gasp and the breath she'd been holding would rush out in a violent explosion of air. She was sweet, so sweet and he licked his lips, staring at the red curls between her thighs that were already wet and waiting for him.

Harry had just trailed the tip of his tongue over her, moving closer and closer to the prize when a loud thumping noise echoed in the house.

The banging came from downstairs and it was loud enough to hear in their bedroom. Harry cursed and Ginny let out a frustrated whine. He rolled off of her and grabbed his robe from the bottom of the bed. Yanking it on, he cursed even more. When Ginny moved to get off the bed, he glared at her. 

"Don't move," he said harshly. "I'll be right back. I want you to stay right here, in this position. I intend to come back and finish what we started."

"I want to see who it is," she insisted. She stood up and grabbed her own robe from the nearby armchair. "It's not even 8 a.m. yet, it must be important."

Harry cursed again, desperately trying to force blood into other parts of his anatomy so it wouldn't be so obvious what they'd been doing up here. Ginny dropped her robe and when she bent over to pick it up, she flashed him the delectable bum he'd been holding in his hands not ten seconds ago. He groaned.

Nevermind, he thought, whoever it was at the front door deserved to know what they'd interrupted.

"I'm obsessed," he muttered to himself, wrenching open the bedroom door and stomping down the stairs.

"Obsessed with what?" Ginny called after him innocently.

"You," he shouted back. "Which is why you need to get back in bed and –" He had reached the front door by now and pulled the heavy door open forcefully.

"This had better be important," he snapped before he even noticed who it was. "I don't like people interrupting my morning sh-…oh, it's you."

"Good morning, Harry," Roderick Bintliff said mildly. "I'm sorry to trouble you at such an early hour, but I do have news."

Harry eyed him skeptically. What news could be so important that it was necessary to deliver it before 8 a.m.? But he stepped back and let Bintliff enter. 

"Go on through to the library," he sighed defeatedly. "I'll see if Dobby's awake and can put some tea on."

"No need," Ginny said brightly, appearing at the foot of the stairs. "I'll do it."

She waved them both into the library and returned a moment later levitating a tray in front of her that carried a steaming teapot and three cups.

"That was fast," Harry commented, reaching for the pot and filling the three mugs. "Was Dobby awake?"

"He stumbled into the kitchen when I was getting the tray ready. He tried to insist on helping, but I insisted that he go back to bed." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Heating a teapot is rather simple for a witch you know." She held a hand out to the fireplace and lobbed a ball of fire onto the wood, instantly setting it ablaze.

"Right," Harry said, rubbing a hand over his face wearily. "Forgot."

He took a fortifying sip of tea and asked, "What are you doing here, Roderick?"

Roderick took a sip of his own tea and then set it down with a grimace that Harry suspected had nothing to do with the tea.

"Narcissa Malfoy is dead."

Ginny inhaled sharply and sat straight up in her chair. Harry cursed for the third time that morning and let his cup fall down to the side table with a bang. "How?"

Roderick shook his head. "Looks like the Killing Curse."

"But how?" Ginny protested. "Wasn't she under guard?"

"It's someone on the inside," Harry said through gritted teeth. His morning was officially shot through hell. "She's been under lock and key in the ministry waiting for the trial before they could move her to Azkaban."

Roderick nodded his agreement. "I agree. It's got to be someone close – no one else would have been able to do it. We think she must have been working with someone. They must have been afraid she'd give them up. The Aurors were just about to use Veritaserum on her." He took another sip of tea. "Since the war, giving Veritaserum to a prisoner requires a lot of paperwork. Otherwise we would have given it to her sooner."

"Pity," Ginny commented.

"You've got to find out who's behind this," Roderick said bluntly. "When prisoners in the ministry die, people get involved." He looked hard at Harry. "People we don't want poking their nose into our business. If someone finds out the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort is a spy for the Ministry, there'll be no peace for any of us."

He looked sharply at both of them now. "The whole reason you are both valuable to us is because of your unique position in the Wizarding community. You're both excellent at your jobs of course, but your standing, particularly yours Harry, allows my department access to certain situations that would be very complicated otherwise. If that anonymity were to be jeopardized, we'd have to find other uses for you. Believe me, neither of us wants that."

He stood up and smoothed the front of his robes. "I don't mean to sound harsh or callous, but these are the facts."

Harry nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. "I know."

"Then you understand why you must find out who was working with Narcissa Malfoy," Roderick said. "Sooner rather than later. I want to know all about that talisman as well. We are no longer working on our own timeline. If we don't find out what's going on or who is behind this, the Minister is going to come down on all our heads and we'll be wading knee-deep in Ministry paperwork."

He headed towards the doorway, Harry following behind them. "I don't know about you, Harry," he said over his shoulder. "But I prefer to do things my way."

"Harry, it's time."

Harry lifted his head from the paperwork he'd been reading at his desk in his study and looked confusedly at Ginny who was sitting in the overstuffed chair in front of the fire.

"Time for what?"

Ginny took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "Time to go to Hogwart's"

Harry sat back in his chair, immediate rejection of the idea on his face, but Ginny held up a hand. "Hear me out."

He regarded her silently and put down his pen before folding his hands on the desk. "Fine, go ahead."

"Our case is only half-solved," she said quietly. "We know Narcissa was involved in the theft of the talisman and in Tuelsburg's death, and we know why. But we don't know who was helping her, nor do we know how that damned necklace works. I've been through every book outside of Hogwart's that I know about, and all I've been able to find is what language it's not."

"Still, that's pretty helpful –"

"It's not enough," she interrupted. "We've got to go to Hogwart's. They've the best library around and you know it. If we're ever going to finish this thing it's the next logical step."

Harry scowled. "That damn tournament –"

"You don't have to go," Ginny pointed out. "I can go myself."

Harry sighed dejectedly and faced facts. She was right; he was finding that Ginny usually was. "Going through all that material would take twice as long if you're by yourself," he said grudgingly. "I'll go with you. But we go in quietly. No one knows we're there except for McGonagall."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, but decided not to be obnoxious about her victory. "Should we wear disguises?"

She'd been joking, but he only grunted and said, "Maybe I'll wear a hat and dark glasses."

Ginny adjusted the Hogwart's school tie at her throat and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Harry wouldn't know what hit him. She'd planned to wear a special "disguise" for their trip to Hogwart's, but it wouldn't be revealed until the right moment. Luckily she paid attention when he described his fantasies to her. She grabbed her old Hogwart's school cloak and threw it over the outfit, thankful for once that her mother never threw anything away.

"Ginny! C'mon! McGonagall's opening the Floo in five minutes!"

One last primp in the mirror, and then Ginny was dashing down the stairs to the library fireplace. "Sorry," she said, out of breath. "I lost track of time."

Harry blinked. "Wow, for a minute there I flashed back to our Hogwart's days. I can't believe you still have the same cloak."

Ginny shrugged. "It was in the attic at the Burrow." Harry had gotten rid of his old school cloaks years ago and had been forced to transfigure his clothing to resemble a Hogwart's robe.

Ginny held out her hand absentmindedly and one of the flames in the fireplace leapt out and settled happily in her palm. She let it dance over her fingers and rolled it around her palm, shrinking and expanding it expertly while they waited. Professor McGongall had owled that she would open her fireplace at exactly 10 a.m.

Harry stared at the flame in her hand as she played with it. "I wonder if I'll ever get used to you doing that."

She grinned mischievously at him and said, "Think you'll ever get used to this?" She opened her mouth and placed the flame in her mouth. She closed her mouth around it and then opened it back up so he could see the flame still alive and burning merrily on her tongue. The expression on his face was halfway between revulsion and interest.

"That's weird," he finally said.

Ginny laughed and closed her mouth again, swallowing the flame. She smiled when the warmth of it settled in her stomach and spread throughout her abdomen.

"Does it…does it taste good?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"I dunno. I never thought about it." She concentrated, rolling around the taste of the fire on her tongue. "I guess it tastes a little like burnt wood. But it's not unpleasant."

Harry shook his head. "Still weird."

The clock chimed the hour, then and Harry tossed his pinch of powder into the fireplace. Ginny stepped in after him and held his hand while he shouted their destination. A few swirling moments and then they were stumbling out into the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

"Professor McGonagall!" Ginny smiled at her old professor while she dusted off her robes.

Professor McGonagall smiled genially at them and shook Harry's hand when he offered it. "I'm not your professor any more," she reminded them. "Please, call me Minerva."

Harry looked immediately uncomfortable. "I don't think I could do that."

"Fred and George call you Minnie behind your back," Ginny informed her.

McGonagall bristled. "Yes. I've heard them." She gave a small huff. "I trust that whatever you find you're comfortable calling me," she told Harry, "it won't be that ghastly nickname."

"No, ma'am," he said sincerely.

She smiled slightly. "They aren't the only former students to call me that, you know. Sirius Black and James Potter tortured me quite a bit with that name when they graduated from Hogwart's."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Really?"

She nodded. "Oh yes. We were all in the first Order of the Phoenix then," she explained. "We saw quite a bit of each other. I remember when Lily was pregnant with you and I visited you in the hospital after you were born."

"You'll have to tell me stories sometime," Harry said eagerly. He wondered why the Professor had never mentioned this to him before.

"Gladly." Professor McGonagall picked an invisible piece of dust off her robes and sat back down behind her desk. "Now, you're here to look in the library?"

Harry nodded but Ginny didn't hear her and so she didn't answer. She was staring at the portrait just to the left of Professor McGongall's head. "Professor Dumbledore," she whispered.

Her old mentor smiled gently at her. "Hello my dear," he said graciously. "Hello Harry, nice to see you again."

Harry smiled back and nodded. Ginny's head whipped to look back at him. "You've talked to him since…" she let her voice trail off, not wanting to say "since he died."

Harry nodded. "Several times, Gin. His portrait was placed here shortly after…oh well, I guess you left. This must be the first time you've seen it." He looked between her and Dumbledore's portrait. "Why don't Professor McGonagall and I stand over here and I'll tell her what we need. You take a minute."

Ginny turned back to Dumbleore's picture. "It's," she cleared her throat. "It's um, good to see you again, Professor."

Dumbledore shifted in his seat. "You know it's not really me. I'm just a portrait."

"But you have his memories?" she asked uncertainly.

He smiled. "Oh yes. I remember you quite well, my dear." His eyes shifted to the corner where Harry was in discussion with Professor McGonagall. "I remember you and Harry especially." His gaze shifted back to her. "I can see that you and he are still…close?"

She smiled broadly at him, blinking back the tears the unexpected sight his face had caused. "More than friends," she said plainly. "We'll probably get married soon."

"He's asked you?"

"No," she said, "but –" she glanced at Harry over her shoulder. "Maybe I'll ask him instead." She smiled back at her former professor. "It seems to be more of a formality at this point. We've been busy and haven't really had time to discuss it."

His face relaxed and he sat back in his chair. "Thank goodness," he murmured. "He told me you'd left after Voldemort died; I was afraid he would never tell you his true feelings."

"He nearly didn't," she said frankly. "We've only been together a few months. I got back from Paris in October."

He leaned forward eagerly. "Tell me everything."

So Ginny chatted happily with her old professor for several minutes explaining where she'd been the last four years. She told him about the empathy and fire goddess gifts she'd been given, and he seemed impressed when she quickly shifted to her tiger animagus form.

"You have been busy," his said, his eyes twinkling merrily at her. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat at the sight of the familiar twinkle and instead and demonstrated how she "played" with fire. He clapped enthusiastically.

"So what do you do now?"

Ginny hesitated. "I work with Harry," she said slowly.

"Ah," his face showed understanding. Ginny was glad she didn't have to elaborate.

"Professor," she began, "I wonder if I might ask you something private. It's about…sharing magic."

His eyebrows lifted and he listened patiently while Ginny explained how she and Harry had learned to share magic and cast spells simultaneously. She described the golden aura that appeared when they were together and how they could nearly fully communicate without speaking when their magic was merged. She delicately glossed over the details of what "together" meant.

"Do you have any idea what it could be?" she asked anxiously. "We've asked Hermione but she's been unable to find any information about it."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I have one idea," he said slowly. "But I don't know how you'll confirm it."

Harry waited impatiently for Ginny and Dumbledore to finish their conversation. He wanted to get to the library and out of the hallways before anyone saw them; but he knew she deserved this time with Dumbledore. Harry had often come to Hogwart's to talk things over with the portrait. It was a poor substitute for having Dumbledore still alive, but sometimes he just needed to see those twinkling eyes and remember.

Harry also knew he was being unreasonable about not wanting to be seen on the grounds, but he just couldn't help it. The thought of a bunch of students gawking at him and Ginny made him very nervous.

"Will you need any assistance from Madame Pince?" Professor McGonagall asked politely. "Should I send a note with you?"

Harry hesitated; a note from McGonagall would go a long way with Madame Pince, but he didn't want the librarian to get an idea of what they were looking for. He didn't want anyone to know, and he suspected McGonagall's question was more of a probe than anything. "No thanks," he said finally.

Ginny turned from the portrait just then, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. Harry knew she almost never cried so he wondered what Dumbledore had said to her. They said goodbye to McGonagall and rode the familiar staircase down from the Headmaster's office. No one was in the hallway and Harry decided he didn't have to whip out the invisibility cloak he'd stashed underneath his cloak. They made their way quickly to the library and commandeered a quiet corner.

The hardest part of looking for a needle in a haystack, or in this case – an obscure language – was that one never knew where to begin. Ginny started in the history section, but soon found herself adding books about languages and archaeology. More than ever, she bemoaned the fact that Hermione couldn't be a part of this case. In fact, she thought grumpily, if working for the Ministry meant this much research, she'd find something else to do with her time.

She sighed and pulled another heavy tome towards her. This one was about dead languages and as she flipped through it, she decided they couldn't be that dead if someone had written an incredibly dull book about them.

Her stomach rumbled just then and she looked up at Harry. He was bent over a book he'd found in the magical history section. "I'm hungry."

"I know," he said, idly turning a page. "I could hear your stomach from over here."

"It's been ages since breakfast," she groaned.

"Call Dobby," he suggested without taking his eyes off the book in front of him. "He can come to Hogwart's you know."

"Oh! That's right." Ginny brightened visibly and sat up in her chair.

"Um…Dobby?"

There was a beat of time and then Dobby appeared next to her chair, a beaming smile on his face. "Miss called Dobby?"

Ginny took a moment to admire the magic of house elves and then asked pathetically for a sandwich and glass of pumpkin juice. Dobby disappeared and reappeared a few minutes later with a tray of food loaded down with sandwiches, juice and crisps. She and Harry ate gratefully in between scanning pages of the books. Ginny figured that if Madame Pince caught them, she'd chuck them from the library, so she finished quickly and sat back in her chair with a satisfied stretch. Harry was still engrossed in a heavy book that took up nearly one half of the table; he seemed incredibly preoccupied.

"What is it?" Ginny asked. "Did you find something?"

In answer, Harry took a bite of his sandwich and looked up, chewing thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure." He took another bite, forcing Ginny to wait until he'd swallowed. "I've just been thinking…maybe we're going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he gestured to the books spread out on the table. "We've been trying to find out what language is on the talisman and it hasn't been very successful. Maybe instead of looking for the language, we should be looking for the event."

"The event? Which one?"

"The one where the talisman was created," he said patiently. "I mean, someone, somewhere made a talisman that somehow grants magic to whoever can figure out how to use it. That kind of thing surely didn't go unrecorded."

Ginny mulled the idea over. "But we don't know when that was. We don't know what time period to even search."

He shrugged. "So. We don't know it now and we're looking. I'm just saying the chances of us finding this language are slim to none at this point. But someone might have written down an account of what happened."

"Someone might have written it down thinking it was a story or a folktale," Ginny suggested, warming up to the idea.

"Exactly."

Ginny smiled slowly at him. "Harry, you're a genius."

"Well, I dunno know about genius –" He stopped and his eyes grew wide. "What are you doing?"

Ginny had pushed back her chair and stood up. Her hands were slowly unbuttoning her Hogwart's robe. "I'm just a little hot," she said innocently. "Thought I'd take this wool cloak off."

She let the robe slide down her arms and fall heavily into the library chair; she enjoyed the way Harry's eyes bugged out when he saw what she was wearing underneath. She'd found her seventh year Hogwart's uniform in the Burrow's attic packed underneath her cloak. On a whim, she'd grabbed it to take home to Grimmauld Place. She hadn't expected it to still fit – even if it was a bit tight across the bustline. The skirt was also considerably shorter than it had been in school; but that was probably because Ginny had shortened it a few inches when she'd put it on this morning. She remembered all too clearly Harry's description of how he lusted after her during school; she hoped the uniform would bring it all back to him.

"Wuh" was all he said.

Smirking, Ginny sat back down and primly crossed her legs underneath the table. The buttons on the Hogwart's shirt pulled tightly across her breasts and well-developed stomach muscles.

She reached up and loosened the tie around her neck. Harry swore, his hands clenched tightly on the arms of the chair.

"You are evil," he managed.

Ginny batted her eyelashes at him. "Evil? Are you sure? I thought you liked my school skirt?" She nibbled on the edge of her quill. "What was it you said that one time? Oh yeah...easy access."

Harry began looking around the area wildly. The words had triggered something in him. A need to claim her, to perhaps relive something they should have had years ago when they were both at this school as students. He was reminded of what he'd missed; instead of longing endlessly at school for her, he could have had –

Ginny chose that moment to shoot a spike of magic at him. Using the familiar mental pathway that connected them, she let a bolt of fire heavy with desire move towards him. She could tell when it hit because his body jerked, and his magic involuntarily reached for hers. She answered the call gratefully and they both gasped softly when their magic merged. They were sitting in plain view at the library table and so both had to struggle to keep the golden aura from showing.

Ginny began sending images into his head. They weren't actual pictures, more like ideas of what they looked like together. And in every one of them, she was wearing that damned uniform.

Harry spotted suddenly a door behind a stack of books. He sprang out of his chair and quickly walked to it; finding it locked, he opened it quickly with a desperate wave of his hand. Judging by the cobwebs and dust, it was long-abandoned broom closet. His heart beat faster, and he hurried back to Ginny.

She was still sitting in the library chair, only she'd turned it around to watch him. There was an amused expression on her face, and he nearly groaned aloud when he saw the expanse of thigh that was revealed by her short, short school skirt.

He could have asked her to come to him, could have waited for her to make the choice to step into the broom closet with him, but he was too eager. Instead, he strode towards her, grabbed her by the arms, yanking her out of the chair. Quickly, he hustled her to the closet he'd found and practically tossed her inside.

She landed against the wall and spun around, her eyes glittering. Her breath was coming in short, heavy pants.

Harry whipped off his cloak and flung it to the floor, his hands immediately going to the buttons on his shirt. "You put that on this morning? You planned this?"

"Yes."

The shirt joined the cloak on the floor and his hands moved down to his belt buckle. He unfastened it and unbuttoned the top button on his trousers, letting them hang low on his hips.

Ginny took a sharp breath and her gaze followed the trail of dark hair that traveled down his lower belly and disappeared into the top of his boxer briefs. She swallowed, immediately picturing her tongue tracing that same path. Harry moved towards her, his intent written in the dark gaze he gave her. His jaw was tight and Ginny could tell he was teetering on the edge of control. Would they ever stop wanting each other this much?

"No," he answered, just before he reached her. He crushed her to him and then Ginny was swimming, drowning in the taste and feel of him. Her hands trembled with arousal as she ran them over his broad shoulders; they skimmed down to trace the planes of muscles over his chest and down his stomach. He sucked in a breath when her hands reached the front of his trousers. His tongue pressed deeper, opening her mouth further until her jaw was frozen open for his assault. The kiss was wet and hot and she reveled in the power she had to make this man loose his famous control.

The magic between them grew until they couldn't control it any longer. The golden aura sprang out of them, spreading out from their entwined bodies and over the walls of the dingy closet until the space was lit with the fire of a hundred suns. The tiny space only amplified the brightness of it. Power sizzled on their skins.

"Someone is going to see," Ginny gasped in a shaky voice, as she ripped her mouth away from his. He went on undaunted, trailing his mouth over her jaw and down her throat. Ginny felt like he was burning marks into her skin as he moved. His tongue traced the hollow of her collarbone and suddenly she was wearing too many clothes. She wanted to feel him against her; skin-to-skin.

"Harry," she whimpered.

"I know what you want," he breathed into her skin. His hands slid up her ribs, stopping to squeeze her breasts on the way and grasped the edges of her shirt. It was already tight and when Harry gave a quick jerk, the buttons flew off. Ginny heard little pings as each of them hit the stone floor. Another quick yank and her bra was shoved up to her neck as Harry fastened a mouth over the tip of one breast.

Ginny gasped and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him to her chest while he suckled her. He groaned, his mouth full of her breast, when she shifted her hips to rub against the erection straining the front of his jeans.

"Sshh," she managed. "Someone is going to hear us."

Harry's hands moved down they were bunching up her skirt. When they encountered the nearly bare skin of her bum, he pressed harder against her, pinning her against the wall.

"Thong," he choked. "Fuck."

His hands moved to her front and shoved the scrap of fabric unceremoniously aside. And then those lovely long fingers were sliding down, down, through the curls between her thighs until they could press inside her. He filled her, pressing further, until his knuckles pressed against her pubic bone.

"Damn, you're wet." He lowered his forehead to her chest, his mouth still nibbling on one breast.

"Inside," she gasped. "Hurry." Her hands fumbled for his zipper and she yanked it carefully over his arousal. One more shove and then he was spilling into her palms, his penis engorged and thick and heavy in her hands. One hand wrapped around the hot flesh while the other delved further into his pants to cup his testicles. Her thumb swirled the drop of fluid over the mushroom head and Harry muffled a shout into her skin.

"There are so many things I want to do with you in here," he rasped, his head lifting to look at her.

"I thought we'd pretty much tried everything already," she panted. Her hand moved slowly, stretching the flesh up and over his erection.

Harry's fingers pumped faster inside her. "Baby, there are things I want to do to you they don't have names for yet."

It was the "baby" that did it. Ginny shattered, clenching around his fingers as her climax rolled through her like a thunderbolt. She felt the fire moving inside of her and welcomed the feeling as pleasure spread through her until her toes were tingling and she felt lightheaded.

When it was over, she sagged against the wall. Harry lifted her up and urged her legs around his waist.

"That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he murmured, his eyes fastened on her lips.

"You say that every time," she managed.

"It's true every time," he agreed. He kissed her then and she recovered some of her strength as their tongues and teeth rattled together.

She lifted her hips to rub against his flesh, begging silently for him to enter her. He denied her and just kept up a slow grind – his hips mimicked the sex act, but he wouldn't make the connection and finish it.

"I'm going to murder you when this over," she said through gritted teeth.

He smirked down at her. "Did you want something, Nix?"

"You bloody well know what I want."

"Well," he drawled, his hips moving into position. "I've always appreciated a woman who knew what she wanted." There was a beat of time and then he was filling her as he'd never filled her before. His shaft tunneled through her swollen flesh, working until she surrounded him completely.

Harry's hands, which had been gripping her arse, let go of her to slam into the wall on either side of her head. "Damn," he groaned.

"I know," she whimpered. "It's so good, Harry. So good." She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her thighs around his hips so he could use the wall as leverage for his thrusts.

Harry's breath came in hot and heavy pants against her neck. "Remind me to send a thank-you note to the creators of the Hogwart's uniform."

"Easy access," she said in a breathless laugh.

He began moving. Despite the urgency between them, his strokes were long and slow, designed to torture Ginny. She wriggled, trying to get closer, trying to get him to move faster. She clenched her muscles around him and his hips jerked. His thrusts increased, almost against his will.

Then he did something Harry had never done before and it was nearly the death of her. He began whispering quiet, dirty, raunchy things into her ear. He told her what he wanted to do her and how many times; described every naughty thought he'd had about her when they were at school. Normally Ginny was the one who was so vocal with her dirty thoughts during sex; but hearing those words directly into her ear sent her careening over the edge.

Harry, who'd had at least a tenuous edge on his control, lost it completely when he felt the spasms of her climax grip him like a pulsing glove. The magic in the room settled on their skin like flames as he spilled into her, his voice joining hers as they shouted their exultation. He came in one long thrust that pleasured to the point of pain.

Ginny's fingers clutched at his shoulders, the fingertips burning with small flames as they swallowed each other's cries. It wasn't enough, despite the pleasure that blinded, despite the way they were connected, it was never enough. And it wouldn't be, not even if they did this a million times.

It took every ounce of energy they had left, but Harry and Ginny managed to finally move from where they'd collapsed into a heap on the floor of the broom closest and get dressed. They settled themselves back at their library table wearily.

"I think I need more food after that one," Harry remarked as he reached for another sandwich. It felt like they'd been in the broom closest forever, but in reality it had only been twenty minutes or so. Ginny had a flash of what their lives would have been like if they'd admitted their love for each other in school. They probably would have had many moments like this – moments after they'd just had mind-blowing sex in a closet or Harry's bed and had to return to the real world.

"Ron would have killed us if he'd found us," Harry murmured around the food in his mouth.

With a start, Ginny realised they were still connected and Harry had picked up on her thoughts. "It's scary how you can do that," she told him.

He shrugged. "Sorry. I can't explain it any better than you can."

Ginny kept her mouth shut and focused on the research in front of her. She was reluctant to share what Dumbledore had told her. He hadn't been sure of his memory and there was on point in explaining something she didn't know to be true.

"Do you think we would have," she asked instead. "I mean, made love, had sex, whatever, if we'd gotten together during school?"

Harry looked up at her, his eyes scanning her. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," he said slowly, "but I think I wouldn't have been able to stop myself."

"Would you have wanted to?" he asked. "Even though we would have been so young?"

Ginny shrugged. "It's hard to say what I would have felt ready for. I suspect I wouldn't have been able to stop either. But we were both different people back then."

"Yeah," he agreed, looking down at the sandwich in his hands. "But I think that if I'd allowed myself to admit my feelings to you, I would have wanted to grab every second I could with you."

"You mean you would have shagged me just in case Voldemort killed you." Ginny said bluntly.

Harry looked sheepish. "It takes the romance out of it when you say it like that."

"There's nothing romantic about Voldemort," Ginny said shortly.

"Yeah." He grinned at her. "It still would have been good between us."

Ginny shuddered. "I'm not sure how I stay conscious most of the time."

Harry couldn't help himself and he threw his head back to laugh at her. Joy bubbled through their magical connection and Ginny was filled with an incredibly warm feeling that she realised was Harry's love. It made her smile. She was glad she could make him laugh.

Three hours later, they were still looking. They'd shifted their focus as Harry had suggested and were scouring books on ancient magical history for anything that seemed likely. So far, Ginny had set aside three books that had interested her. Harry was having better luck; he'd spent the last few minutes running from library shelf to library shelf pulling and discarding books impatiently.

"Have you found something?"

"Maybe," he answered. He thumbed through a book with fragile pages and looked up at her triumphant. "Found it!"

"Really?" Ginny gasped. "You're sure?" It seemed impossible after months of looking.

Harry slid into the seat next to her and they hunched over the book together. Ginny fingered the delicate pages, immediately entranced with the beautiful handwritten calligraphy.

"I found a reference to this book in the _'Most Mysterious Magical Moments of Our Time…if we were over 3,000 years old,'_" Harry explained. "It mentioned an even older book that told fairytales and the author wondered how many of them were actually 'tales.' I'm surprised they have this copy – it looks like it might be an original edition."

"This story is familiar," Ginny said slowly, her finger tracing the words on the page. "I've read about this before. It was in a Magical Literature class. My professor told us this story. She said it was one of her favorites; she even published a paper about it. It was about a young boy who was the only wizard in his village. He was so lonely and wanted a friend to play with but everyone was kind of scared at him because he was so different. So he decided to 'give' some magic to the girl who lived next door. He created a beautiful…" her voice trailed off and she looked in horrified awe at Harry.

"He created a necklace for her," she finished, her eyes wide. "And she loved it and she wore it the rest of her life and they had seven children who were all wizards and the entire family was revered by the rest of the village for many generations to come."

Harry straightened up and looked down at the book with glittering eyes. Ginny thought she could see months of the mystery they'd been trying to solve unraveling before in them. He took out his wand and several pieces of parchment and began painstakingly copying the story from the Restricted Section book. When he finished, he shoved the papers into the satchel they'd brought with them. "We've got to find everything we can find about this story. Every version that's been written, every time it's referenced in another book." He pointed to the title. "'The Lonely Wizard.' We've got a name now."

Ginny looked at him in amazement. "You did it Harry. We've been searching for so long…and you just solved it."

"Well," he said modestly, "not completely. There's still a lot we don't know."

"Still," she smiled at him brilliantly. "It's a big step in the right direction. I'm so impressed!"

"I'm pretty sure that's my favorite thing in the world…when you smile at me like that."

Her smile grew broader, if that was possible, and Harry kissed her quickly. "C'mon, let's keep looking."

"Are you sure you don't want to take a break? It's nearly dinnertime."

Harry shook his head. "No, we're on a roll."

"Fine, but I hope you remember you've got a Weasley on your hands. I'll need food eventually."

Harry laughed and left her at the table while he went to search the library catalog.


	20. Chapter 20 The Feeding of Souls

Chapter 20

"So that's it, then? This is where the village was?" Ginny was standing in front of the large map on the wall of the library at Grimmauld Place. She tapped the area in question with her finger. "You think it's really real?"

"The talisman is real," Harry pointed out. "And according to Narcissa, Adais Malforne's diary is real."

"We've got to get that diary," Ginny mused. She gathered her long, red hair and twisted it up on the back of her head. "I suppose…" she trailed off in thought.

"Oh no," Harry said, recognising the speculative look in her eyes, "we're not going to concoct some elaborate plan to sneak into the Malfoy Mansion ala Fred and George."

"What do you suggest then?" Ginny fought not to whine. She loved a good sneaky plan.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, determined to be stern. "I'm sure we can get it through legal means."

"How are we going to do that?" Ginny shook her head. "We agreed – no one can know what we're on to here – not even Bintliff. It's too dangerous. If you ask someone else to get the diary they might read it. We can't risk anyone else knowing the location of that village."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "I'll think of something. Going to the Mansion and asking for it comes to mind."

Ginny laughed. "What, you think the house elves are going to hand over their master's possessions to you? Besides, Pansy probably already has her son fully entrenched in the Malfoy throne. He's been named heir you know, it was in the Daily Prophet today."

"I'll get it," Harry said stubbornly.

Ginny turned fully and smiled at him mischievously. "Care to bet on it?"

"You want to wager with me about this?"

"Sure. If you can get it without using nefarious means, then you win."

"What do I win?" Harry was suspicious.

She shrugged. "Name your terms."

Harry knew exactly what he wanted but he didn't want to show his hand just yet. "I don't want to state my terms right now, let's just say that you'll owe me a favor that I can claim at any time."

Ginny's chin lifted. "Fine, but if I win, you have to help me break into Fred and George's potion lab at their shop."

"Their potion lab? Why would you want to do that?"

"It's a matter of pride," she explained. "They brag about how no one can break their wards and enchantments. I want to prove I can." She'd been dying to get a crack at them since she'd seen the extent of the protection they'd placed over the lab at their shop. Her brothers were so smug; they needed to be taken down.

He laughed. "Fine, Nix. It's a deal." They shook on it and Harry checked the time on his wristwatch.

"I've got to run. I told Ron I'd meet him at the pub in ten minutes."

"Yeah, I'm going to go over to Hermione's and help put the babies to sleep."

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe she's letting him out of the house so soon."

"It's been over three weeks since they brought the babies home," Ginny said, "they're probably driving each other crazy."

He grabbed his jacket from the wing chair by the fireplace and sliding a hand around to cup the back of her neck, gave her a soft kiss on the lips. "I'll be late."

"Are you going to come home half-pissed?" Ginny cocked her head at him. This was the first time Harry had gone off to a pub with his mates since they'd moved in together. It made her feel surprisingly domestic.

"Maybe. You up for some half-drunk lovin' if I do?" Both arms slid around her waist and he nuzzled her neck. She grinned.

"Gee, you make it sound so romantic." Ginny's hands moved over his shoulders and slid around to his back. She let him continue to kiss her neck while she slid her hands down to his bum. She palmed each cheek and squeezed, hoping he didn't notice the quick spell as she did it. A small orange light flared in the room, but Harry was too busy to notice.

"Harry," Ginny tried to shove him off. "You're going to be late. My brothers will be waiting."

"Phoenix," he groaned.

"Go on," she shoved him off and he stepped back a few steps, his face disgruntled.

"It's pretty unfair for you to send your boyfriend off horny to meet your _brothers_," he stated, slipping on his jacket and preparing to Apparate. He disappeared with a soft pop, the sound of Ginny's laughter echoing in his ears.

The rest of the Weasley brothers were already gathered around a pub table when Harry arrived at The Leaky Cauldron. The plan was to officially celebrate the birth of Ron's sons – it was tradition to celebrate the birth of a new Weasley in this manner and had been since Bill's eldest had been born shortly after the War had ended.

But the guest of honor didn't look so good. Ron was currently slumped face first on the table, an untouched shot of Firewhiskey in front of him.

"Is he…snoring?" Harry asked incredulously as he pulled out the last empty chair and sat down between Charlie and George.

"Fell asleep five minutes ago," George said. "It's got to be some sort of new record. I mean, he hasn't even had any liquor and he's already passed out. I'd be proud except that I've a reputation to uphold." He leaned forward and banged heavily on the table. "Wake up, mate! You're in a pub for bloody's sake!"

The glass of Firewhiskey sloshed its contents onto the table and Harry rescued it, tossing it back easily while Ron jumped up from his prone position on the table and upon recognising his surroundings, rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Bastard," he mumbled to George. "That's the first decent kip I've had since the twins came home."

Bill motioned to the bartender Tom for another round of drinks and then said, "Get used to it, brother. It gets worse before it gets better."

"Poor Hermione," Ron said dully. "She gets even less sleep than I do. S'not like I can nurse them for her."

Fred clapped Ron heartily on the back. "Well at least you don't have to worry about shagging for awhile. Three more weeks to go, eh?"

Ron groaned and tossed back a slug of whiskey that Tom placed in front of him. "Who feels like sex anyway? We're both exhausted beyond belief. Hermione barely has time to shower, let alone dress in something other than sweatpants and t-shirts. And even that would be okay except that one or both of us is usually covered in baby spit or shit. It's not attractive at all."

"I warned you," Fred singsonged.

"Wait a minute," Harry frowned. "What's this about 'three weeks to go'?"

The Weasley brothers stared at him and then one by one, hooted with laughter.

"Ah, Young Harry," Charlie put a hand on his shoulder. "Haven't you ever heard of the "Curse of Six Weeks?"

"No," he said cautiously.

Percy shook his head. "Sometimes I am surprised at the lack of education of today's-"

"Shut it, Perce," George said good-naturedly. He put a hand on Harry's other shoulder. "Harry…mate…Defiler of My Sister, let us educate you. After a woman gives birth, she cannot –" he paused dramatically – "have sex for six weeks."

"Six weeks?" Harry repeated blankly.

"Six weeks," the table chorused, and gave a collective shudder.

"Actually it can be longer than that if she's…er…had a difficult delivery," Percy informed him.

"Longer!" Ron stared at his brother in horror. "Blimey, you don't think Hermione –"

"I'm sure she would have mentioned it," Bill assured him.

"But how you can be sure?" Ron looked around wildly. "She's been so tired; it might have slipped her mind. Dammit, where's a Floo? I've got to settle this."

"Actually, I think you should wait," Harry objected. "She and Ginny are probably trying to get the babies to sleep right about now."

"Damn," Ron sat back down in his chair and flung back the rest of the whiskey. "Guess you're right."

"No need to get excited," Fred looked at Ron in amusement. "Thought you didn't feel like shagging anyway."

"I'm pretty sure that won't be the case in three more weeks," Ron said dully. "We've never gone this long before."

"Six weeks," Harry echoed. "I can't even fathom…" His voice trailed off as he imagined six weeks without being able to be inside Ginny. He hadn't been having sex that long but he was pretty sure it was the most important thing he'd ever done thus far. "I can barely go six _hours_," he murmured.

There was a silence at the table and Harry looked up to find each one of the Weasley brothers glaring at him in various stages of disgust and irritation.

"What?" he said defensively. "Oh, you can talk about sex with your witches, but I can't talk about it with mine?"

"Considering that your witch is our _baby_ sister," Bill said evenly, "we'd prefer to remain in the dark about this one."

"But that's not fair," Harry protested. "I finally have some sex stories to share, after years of listening to all of yours, and you won't let me tell them? That's rubbish! I mean, I get to sleep with a _Fire Goddess_ for crying out loud. Do you have any idea what it's like shagging someone who is descended from a group of Celtic warrior women?!"

George pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Normally, yes we would be highly interested in such a thing; but considering that said Fire Goddess is our sister, I'm with Bill on this one."

"I've had to listen to you talk about Hermione," Harry pointed a finger at Ron accusingly. "She's as good as my sister. You don't think that was disgusting? I shudder to think about it even now."

Ron narrowed his eyes at him. "You didn't change Hermione's nappies when she was a kid. It's different."

"You didn't change Ginny's nappies," Percy told Ron in astonishment. "We did. You were way too young."

"Still, we've all spent a good deal of time trying to keep her away from dodgy blokes," Ron stated. "It'd be weird."

Harry huffed and sat back with his whiskey glass. "Fine, but let me say this: If you guys knew what your sister was capable of -"

There was a chorus of outcries from the table as Ginny's brothers drowned out the rest of his sentence.

"Gaelic!" Harry raised his voice, laughing. He pulled George's hands down from his ears. "She chants in Gaelic! It's bloody sexy too. And she usually sets things on fire!"

Fred let his own hands drop from where they'd been covering his ears. "She sets things on fire? How does that work?"

"Gross," Charlie said, tossing back the last of his Firewhiskey. "Don't answer that Harry."

"They don't burn," Harry told Fred. "They catch on fire – her power is too much, you see, it has to escape – but she can still control it. They don't burn unless she wants them to."

"Wicked," Fred breathed. "Damn, I wish she'd come to work for us. The things we could do with her."

"She's not a side show act," Harry said irritably.

"Right. Sorry."

Bill finished the last of his glass and motioned to Tom. "The next three rounds are on you, Potter. I'm going to need it after this conversation."

"I'll go get it," Harry grumbled, pushing his chair back. "I need to go to the loo anyway." He stood up and stepped around the table towards the back of the bar when George gave a sudden guffaw and nudged Ron.

Ron looked up from his half-empty glass and when he saw what George was pointing at, he poked Percy who let loose with such an uncharacteristically loud roar of laughter that Harry couldn't help but turn around.

"What's so funny?"

Charlie stood up and moved behind Harry, his gaze moving downward and he too exploded in laughter. Soon all the Weasley boys were laughing at a very confused Harry.

"What?" He asked exasperatedly. "Is there something on my arse?" He turned in circles, straining to see what they were laughing at, but the sight of Harry Potter stretching around trying to get a look at the back of his jeans sent them into gales of laughter that soon spread to the surrounding patrons. An older couple enjoying their supper laughed merrily at him, while a group of young witches twittered like birds behind their hands.

"Will someone please tell me what is going on!"

Bill finally took pity on him and conjured up a large mirror on a nearby wall. Harry walked backwards towards it. He looked over his shoulder trying to see what everyone else saw.

Emblazoned on his arse in flashing green letters was written, "_Property of Ginny Weasley_."

Miles away, rocking a fussy baby boy to sleep in Ron and Hermione's cottage outside of Hogsmeade, Ginny lifted her head with a start and looked around in alarm.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," she said cautiously. She cocked her head, listening. "I could have sworn I just heard someone shout my name."

Later that night, after many more shots of Firewhiskey and two sobering charms, Harry Apparated directly into his bedroom. He'd put up with ridicule all night over the message Ginny had left on his arse – he had tried to remove it, but eventually had to concede that it was there until Ginny decided to take it off. The trousers would have to stay in the closest until then.

He moved quietly to the side of the bed where Ginny lay on her stomach, her even breathing betraying a deep sleep. She slept with one arm curled under her pillow and one leg stretched out, the other bent up towards her chest. Harry cautiously moved the sheet draped loosely over her – with Ginny in the room, there was never a need for heavy blankets – and slowly slid his wand out from under his sleeve. Pointing the wand at one perfect butt cheek, he wrote his revenge message on her skin. Using a special spell Fred and George had taught him, he tapped the area lightly and the message became as permanent as he wanted it to be.

Leaning down, he pressed an open mouth kiss to the skin, his tongue flickering over the words, his teeth nibbling gently.

"Mmmm…" Ginny stirred beneath him. She rolled over to her back, exposing her front and smiling sleepily up at him. "You're home."

Fighting back a smug chuckle, Harry quickly toed off his shoes and shucked his clothing. He lay over her like a blanket, his hips moving to nestle between her welcoming thighs while his hand trailed over her hip and palmed the cheek he'd just kissed.

It would be days before Ginny would see it.

Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and eating a few biscuits forced on her by Dobby when he discovered that she had skipped lunch. She heard the soft pop of Apparation in the front hallway and soon the footfalls of Harry as he walked to the kitchen. He didn't have to ask where she was in the house just as she had not had to ask who had entered their home. They were always attuned to each other's location.

She looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ when he entered the room, a welcoming smile on her face. He grinned back rather smugly at her and withdrew a book from inside his robes. Draping the robes over an empty chair and sitting down across from her, he slid the black book over the table towards her.

"I win."

Ginny stopped the book spinning towards her and picked it up. There was a moment of silence while she curiously fingered the cover and then peeked inside. 

"Harry!" she gasped. "It's Malforne's diary! How did you get this!"

"It was really very simple," Harry said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. "It took me awhile to figure it out. I eventually realised I was making things too difficult."

"So how did you get it? Stop dragging it out," she said impatiently. "Just tell me."

"Dobby."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. "Dobby? Dobby got it for you? But how –"

"He used to work for the Malfoy's," Harry reminded her. "I asked him if he could still get access to the mansion. He popped over there while I waited outside in case he had any trouble. He knew exactly where to look. The whole thing took less than five minutes."

"But – but…that's still nefarious!" Ginny exclaimed. "You had him steal it for you!"

Harry considered. "Not exactly. The deal was neither one of _us_ could get it through nefarious means. I didn't get it – Dobby did. He just gave it to me."

"That's semantics!" she spluttered.

He shrugged; a smug look on his face. "Doesn't matter, Phoenix, I won. Admit it."

She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. You won. What's this favor I'm supposed to do for you?"

He shook his head at her slowly, fighting back a grin. "Not yet. I'll claim it when I'm good and ready." He stood up and grabbed his robes from the back of the chair. "By the way, have I told you how much I just love your arse?"

"No," Ginny said suspiciously. "Why?" She'd been suspecting payback for her little prank the night he'd gone out to the pub with her brothers and was a little unnerved at his lack of response thus far.

"Well, I do," he confirmed, "love your arse that is." He stopped at the doorway and winked back at her. "Makes me feel very possessive."

There was a jolt of electricity through their magical connection when he winked at her and Ginny jumped when it sizzled on her left butt cheek. She frowned at him, rubbing the spot and resolving to find a mirror at her earliest opportunity.

_ June_

A tapping on the window alerted Harry to the owl outside the bedroom window, and he slid out from underneath Ginny as he climbed out of bed. Naked, he opened the window and took the letter from the proffered beak. It was a Ministry owl as evidenced by the stamped seal on the outside of the scroll.

"I don't have any treats up here," Harry informed the owl who was eyeing him expectantly. "But if you fly down to the kitchen, Dobby will give you some."

The owl merely eyed him with disdain before spreading its majestic wings and taking off from the windowsill. It did not fly down to the kitchen, but rather flew north back towards the Ministry of Magic. Harry shrugged and closed the window again.

Quietly so as not to disturb Ginny, Harry retrieved his robe from the foot of the bed and sat down in a nearby chair to read the letter. He turned it over in his hands, unreasonably dreading what was inside. Letters directly from the Ministry were never good. His orders were usually hand-delivered in the form of Roderick Bintliff; the only official letters that came from the Ministry were demands from Scrimgeour that he found it politically difficult to ignore. He didn't have a good relationship with the Minister of Magic, but the man knew when to press Harry and when to not. The only exception so far had been Scrimgeour's insistence that he appear in the Tri-Wizard Tournament – Harry would never give into that pressure.

Sighing, he broke the seal on the parchment and scanned the contents. It was quick and direct, and Harry knew with a sinking feeling that he had to take this one seriously. He crumpled the parchment in his hands and looked back up at a still-sleeping Ginny. This was not the time to be leaving her, but he couldn't take her with him. Someone had to stay behind and continue their investigation. He smoothed the missive back open. He would hate being away from her.

"Harry?" Ginny lifted her head from the pillow, her eyes blinking at him sleepily. Her arm slid across his side of the bed, seeking him.

"Over here, Phoenix."

Ginny shifted, her eyes finding him in the pre-dawn light. "What're you doing over there?"

"Got a letter from the Ministry," he answered, holding up the letter as evidence. "It's from Scrimgeour."

"What does he want at this hour?" She sat up, the sheet pooling to her waist, her long red hair sprinkling over her chest.

Harry grimaced. "He wants me to go to New York for the Ministry."

Her eyes widened. "Now?'

He nodded tightly. "I'm to leave tonight. He's arranged an international Portkey for me at 7 p.m. It would be," he hesitated, searching for the word, "- prudent for me to go."

"But why?" Ginny's brow wrinkled in confusion. "You hate him and he hates you. Why would you do something he asked you to do? Especially now when we're in the middle of something big? You know how close we are to figuring out what makes the talisman work."

"I know." He picked at the wax leftover from the seal of the scroll. "But I owe the Americans. I can't just ignore it this time."

"Why do you owe them?"

He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "A couple of years ago, Bintliff sent me over to work with the American Ministry of Magic in New York City. Officially I was there to improve diplomatic relations and cooperation between our Auror Departments, but unofficially, I was to observe the trouble they'd been having with a group of wizards who were terrorising the public wizarding areas." He rubbed his tired eyes with his palms. "They called themselves 'Black Death' or some other such nonsense, but really they were just a gang of teenage wizards who'd gotten out of control. Americans restrictions on underage magic are looser than ours – you only have to be fifteen to do magic outside of school."

He leaned back in the chair, the ministry letter dangling over the side. "They were capturing witches and pulling them into alleys and raping them. It was awful. People began to be afraid to go out at night and when they started moving into the Muggle areas…" He shook his head. "Well, you can imagine how the British Ministry would be worried about such a thing. They're constantly worried another Death Eater group is going to spring up somewhere and elect a new dark lord. So I went over to keep an eye on things."

"And…" she prompted.

"It got out of hand," he said shortly. "The American Aurors were doing their best, but America's been living in a sort of bubble and they were ill-equipped to handle a group of organized wizards bent on breaking the law."

"So what did you do?"

He blushed. "Well, I lost my temper for one. Several times, in fact. And then I may or may not have conducted my own private investigation that resulted in a very public capture of three of the group's ringleaders as they were about to rape a Muggle girl."

"Lots of memories had to be charmed, and their Auror Department looked inadequate," Harry finished. "Relations between the ministries since then have been tenuous at best. I got into trouble with Bintliff and we both got into trouble with Scrimgeour. I may not like the man, but he had every reason to be upset with me that time."

"So now you have to go and make nice with the American Ministry? Why would they want you after that?"

His mouth tightened. "Cause I'm still Harry Potter."

"Oh." There was sympathy on Ginny's face and she looked so sad for him that Harry's heart swelled. He would never get used to having someone who cared so much for him.

"It's okay." His voice softened. "I'm used to it."

Ginny sucked in her breath bracingly. "How long will you be gone?"

He winced. "Two weeks."

There was a beat of silence and then: "Two weeks!" Ginny's voice was incredulous. "Harry, we're in the middle of an investigation here! You can't just leave for two weeks!"

"I can't help it, Nix," he said. "I messed up the last time I was there and I've got to fix it."

"Bloody Americans," Ginny snapped. "They should just be happy you caught the bad guys for them!"

"It's politics," he said plainly. "And I embarrassed them. I didn't mean to but I did it anyway. I have to go."

"Harry," she said sharply. "We've got information that we have to move on now. We can't sit on this for two weeks. Someone else is out there looking for the same thing and if we don't move now, they may get before us."

"I know," he said urgently. "But I don't know what else to do, Nix. My hands are tied here. There's a hierarchy here and whether or not I like to admit it, I work for the Ministry – which means I work for Scrimgeour. He doesn't even know half of what I do for Bintliff, which benefits everyone involved. If occasionally I have to do something I don't like to keep him off my back then I'll do it."

"Look," he said, coming over to sit next to her on the bed. "We've got the talisman. Whoever else is after it isn't going to be able to do anything without it. And you'll be here; someone _has _to stay here – we can't just leave it entirely. You can continue the investigation yourself."

Ginny huffed, hiding her pleasure at his confidence in her. Harry leaned over, pressing soft kisses to her bare shoulder, following the curve of her collarbone until his tongue flicked out to trail along the side of her throat.

"N-not fair," she stuttered. "You can't win the argument by doing that. It's not on."

"All's fair in love and war." Harry shifted, looming over her, forcing her to lie back against the mattress. He kissed her deeply then, one hand cupping her face firmly as she wilted beneath him.

"Git," she said shakily, when he'd stopped. He smiled and Ginny caught her breath when she saw the love mixed with desire in them. "Fine," she groaned. "I'll stay behind. But you better find a way for us to communicate, Potter. Cause if something goes wrong, I'd better have a way to tell you."

The intense look he was giving her turned to worry. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you're not safe staying here alone. Whoever is out there has already killed once. I don't want them coming after you."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him and with a sharp crackle the headboard of their bed caught on fire. Harry looked up in partial fear as the hangings caught until Ginny snapped her fingers and the fire disappeared. He was amazed to find the headboard and hangings intact with no burn marks visible.

"Okay," he swallowed, looking back down at her. "Point taken."

She grinned and he couldn't help but bending down to kiss those smiling lips. His hand slid down over her skin, over the sheet wrapped around her until he reached the apex of her thighs. He cupped her through the cloth, nudging her thighs apart so his fingers could press into her through the sheet until he could feel the leftover wetness from last night.

"Mmm," he groaned. "I'm not sure I can go without you for two weeks."

Ginny, who had been melted against him, her hips arching underneath the blanket, suddenly stiffened. Her eyes, which had been closed, flew open and she gasped.

"Shite."

"What?" He lifted his head. "What's wrong?"

Ginny lay still, not sure how to explain herself. She tossed Dumbledore's words over in her head, remembering their conversation and the fact that she hadn't yet explained it to Harry.

"Harry," she began carefully, "I'm not sure we _can_ be apart for two weeks."

He took his hand from between her thighs and rolled partially away from her. "What do you mean?"

"Um…well, it's just something Dumbledore said." She couldn't look at him. "It wasn't that I was keeping it a secret exactly, it was just that I'm still unsure what he meant and well, I didn't want to tell you until I knew more."

Harry sat up fully then and he looked down at her sternly. "What did Dumbledore say?"

"I'm not sure what it means," she said earnestly, "but he did say something about distance."

"What. Did. He. Say."

She blew out a breath, her hair fluttering around her face. "Well, I told him about sharing magic with you and asked him if he knew what the gold aura was." Her fingers twisted in the bedclothes. "He said he had only heard theories, but that it was widely believed our auras wouldn't blend like that unless…unless…"

"Unless what, Ginny?" 

"Unless our souls had also merged," she finished in a whisper. "Which means that the more we share magic, the more our souls bind themselves to each other." She looked at him. "Souls are not meant to be apart, Harry. Every time we've merged magic over the last few months, and the gold aura appeared, our souls were feeding each other. It's more than sharing power – soon we won't be able to be apart from each other very long."

Harry stared down at her in disbelief. This was life-altering news and she'd kept it from him?

"How positive was he?" He demanded.

She looked uncertain and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "He was fairly certain he was remembering correctly, but the real problem is that there is no way to verify the information. He couldn't remember where he'd read it – just that he'd heard someone theorize about it once."

Harry stood up, his face angry. "If he knew sharing magic would do this to us, why did he encourage us to do it at school? When we were just teenagers!"

Ginny shook her head, looking troubled. "He didn't know it would do that to us. You don't understand. The sharing magic part of it is separate from the soul binding. It's possible to have one without the other. He had no way of knowing that our auras would insist on combining. It makes sense though, doesn't it? I've always felt a connection to you."

Harry stared back at her, equally troubled. "Are you saying we're soul mates or something? I thought that stuff was just for cheesy romance novels."

"I don't know," she said frustrated. "I don't really understand it myself. I suspect the term 'soul mates' doesn't apply to us. A soul mate is supposed to be someone who carries the other half of your soul. It's one soul split into two. Our souls," she gestured between them, "chose to combine. It was a basic elemental decision."

"Fire and Earth," he mumbled to himself, beginning to pace back and forth next to the bed. He stopped suddenly. "What happens if we're apart," he asked flatly. "Are you going to die if I leave for two weeks?"

She lifted her hands and let them flop back down to her sides. "I don't know. I expect we might become weaker the longer we stay apart, if our souls can't feed off each other like they've become accustomed to."

"Great," he said flatly. "So the longer I leave you here, the less able you'll be to protect yourself. That's just great." He strode over to the wardrobe and yanked open the door angrily. He pulled out a suitcase and threw it to the floor before beginning to rummage in the wardrobe for clothes. "Not to mention the fact that since our souls are possibly melded into one this also means that if I die, you die or something else horrible." He tossed clothes haphazardly into the suitcase and turned to the chest of drawers.

"Are – are you angry?" Ginny asked hesitatingly from behind him.

He stopped pawing through his underwear drawer and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. His hands fisted on his socks and he kept his back to her, his head hanging down between his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I should have told you right away."

"Yes," he answered just as quietly. "You should have. That was a nasty way to spring that on me."

"Does it bother you?"

He turned around then, his anger slowly disappearing when he saw the forlorn look and regret on her face.

"To be bound to me like this? Without a choice?"

He hesitated, thinking over what he wanted to say. "It doesn't bother me – not like you're thinking anyway. And I AM very angry that you kept something from me. We've talked about this before, Nix. You can't keep doing this. I'm your partner, in every way that matters. And this affects me too. You should have told me."

"I know." Shame was written on her face. "I'm sorry. I – I just, well…I guess it was kind of scary to think about."

He nodded. "I'm scared too. But mostly because I can't stand the thought of something happening to you. I know I have to go, but if I leave, something could happen to you. And frankly, the thought of our souls choosing to meld without telling us is a little freaky."

"Although, I suppose it could be considered a subconscious move," he added dryly.

"I can't help but feel a little like the choice was taken out of our hands," she confessed.

"Yeah," he nodded and moved back towards the bed. He sat down next to her and placed an arm around her shoulders. "But since our souls are a part of us, we sort of did make the choice," he reasoned, thinking out loud. "And I would choose you, Phoenix, every time."

"Me too," she whispered. "In fact, I chose you when I was only ten, so I win."

He laughed and fully letting go of his previous anger, he pushed her back onto the mattress again, his body covering hers. His hand slid down to take its earlier position between her legs and he kissed her, deciding that if his life had to spin out of his control, at least he would do it with her.

_Eight days later:_

It wasn't that Ginny had noticed a weakening necessarily; it was just that she tired a lot easier. Yesterday, anxious for a break from poring over her talisman research, she and Dobby had gone to Potter Glen to begin a good spring cleaning. Dobby had apparently been anxious to get his hands on the place since Harry had discovered he owned it, but Harry had never encouraged him, worried that it was too much for one elf. When Ginny asked him to help her, the elf's eyes had lit up at the prospect. Ginny thought later that perhaps she should have asked Harry if she could go poking around his ancestral home, but since he wasn't there to ask, she did it anyway. The two of them had begun at the attic and after only a few hours of sorting through old furniture, clothes and other junk, Ginny had to take a break while Dobby was still going strong.

The feeling of being tired all the time had come upon her gradually. With Harry gone, she should have been getting MORE sleep, not less. But it was hard to sleep without him next to her, and she'd discovered that nothing woke her up quite like a morning shag. Merging magically was not quite feasible over such a long distance – it took too much energy.

Instead, Ginny had thrown herself into deciphering the talisman. Harry's stroke of genius weeks earlier combined with Adais Malforne's description of some of the markings on the cave walls he'd visited so long ago had unlocked the key to translating it. She was anxious to finish.

She was pretty sure the language was some form of ancient Mayan. She had glossed over the dead languages of Central America when Bintliff had first brought the talisman to them, but she hadn't found a correlation. But since they'd determined the tale of "The Lonely Wizard" took place in an ancient Mayan village, she'd revisited the books. What she'd finally discovered at the Hogwarts library was something similar – not exact – but enough that, combined with the diary, she could work out the differences herself.

Except that she wasn't Hermione and decoding ancient scripts didn't come naturally to her. She spent hours at the Hogwarts library. One time Dobby had finally come after her, insisting that she return home. Since Harry's absence, the house elf had charmingly insisted on keeping an eye on her. She suspected Harry had asked him privately to do so; but she couldn't be mad. Dobby was too good and kind and eager.

She hadn't told Dobby that she thought someone was watching her.

She felt the prickle of awareness between her shoulder blades whenever she stepped out of the house. The other day, shopping in downtown London with Tonks, she thought she'd caught a glimpse of something dark ducking behind a corner when she'd turned around suddenly. It had looked like someone wearing robes…maybe dark red ones.

Even now, sitting in the Hogwarts library with books and parchment floating around her head as she tried to organise her research notes, she felt eyes on her. She looked around cautiously but saw no one. If someone was watching her, they were damned good. She was going to be very angry if Harry had ordered someone to keep an eye on her while he was gone. She didn't think he'd be that foolish, but then he'd let her go to Paris for four years without telling her that he loved her because he was afraid for her safety. He wasn't very logical when it came to protecting her.

Ginny waved her hand and the parchment zoomed to the table where it began shuffling itself together in the pattern she was holding onto in her head. The books remained floating in the air, waiting for her to reach for them. 

She frowned down at the pile of parchment. There was a pattern here, she just knew it. Most of what she'd translated so far described what the talisman did. It was the other side that she was having trouble with. It was a spell, she was sure of it. But the words she'd translated didn't make any sense. She was missing something vital. Something simple.

She shuffled the papers together, comparing it to the book open in front of her. There. Her finger poised on one marking. That marking kept appearing and she wasn't sure she'd translated it correctly. In some places it seemed to mean one thing, in other places, something else.

She frowned, bending over the drawing Adais Malforne had made of the talisman when his group had first found it. She compared the marking in the diary with a copy that Harry had made of the talisman. Her finger traced the markings. There. Right there. That was different. She went back to the diary. Well, now she felt stupid. No wonder they translation hadn't made any sense, they were two different markings! It was a subtle difference – one that was barely apparent on the current talisman.

With renewed interest, she worked quickly, translating feverishly, checking and double checking her work. After another hour, she sat back in her chair in shock. But that would mean…wait, what was the date? She stood up, scrambling for the watch she'd taken off earlier. _June 15_. She tripped over the chair legs as she hurried to the library desk where Madame Pince was stamping books in her usual disapproving fashion.

"I need to know the date of this year's Summer Solstice," Ginny said quickly.

The librarian examined her over the tops of her glasses. "There's an almanac that should have the date."

"Where is it?" Ginny said desperately. "Can you show me?"

Madame Pince sighed dramatically and directed Ginny to a large tome in the Reference section. Ginny thanked her and paged through the almanac looking for the information.

"Solstice, solstice…" she muttered to herself. "There. Page 14." She turned to page fourteen and searched rapidly. "Shite." Only five days left.

Ginny slid the almanac back on the shelf and hurried back to her table. She had to get to Harry. She turned the corner and slid to a stop. A dark figure was bending over the table, leafing quickly through her research.

"Hey!"

The figure – it was a man – looked up in surprise and scowled when he saw her. Ginny immediately noticed several things – one that he had the shading of both sides of the talisman that Harry had made; and two that he was wearing dark red robes with a patch that over his left breast that proclaimed him an Auror.

Ginny didn't waste any time pulling out her wand. She immediately cast a spell without thinking, pleased when the man clutched the arm holding the tracing. The parchment dropped to the floor, but Ginny immediately summoned it to her. The man, whom she did not recognize, pulled out his wand but she summoned that as well. He gave a roar and lunged for her. Going with her instinct, Ginny ducked and pivoted. He crashed into the wall behind her which she pinned him against with magic. Ginny moved quickly, lashing out with her leg. The kick caught him across the jaw and he moaned. She stood on one foot, her other leg pinning him against the wall, her foot pressed across his solar plexus.

"Who are you?" She pressed harder against his neck; he gasped for breath. "What are you doing here? Have you been following me?"

"The talisman," he choked, twisting in an attempt to get away from her foot. She pushed him harder into the wall.

"Who sent you?" He shook his head, refusing to answer. "Who sent you!"

All too late, Ginny noticed the fingers of his right hand creeping towards a button on his belt. She lashed out with her hand to fling his arm away, but he pressed the button at the same time and his body began swirling away in a Portkey. She flung her arms up, her eyes flashing gold as power burst through her, into the vortex created by the Portkey. She let him go, instead reaching out to grasp the edges of the vortex. She wrenched them back open, her muscles straining as she fought to hold it open, the Portkey wind blowing her hair away from her face.

She watched as the man's eyes widened and for a moment she was tempted to follow him into the Portkey to finish what they started. But she'd settle for finding out where he landed. He swirled through the Portkey tunnel, his amazed gaze locked on hers. When he landed with a thump on a marbled floor, Ginny stuck her head in the magical hole she was keeping open, and examined the room he was in. She heard voices and then a door opening and the Auror scrambled to his feet, shouting at whoever was entering the room to stay back.

He looked back up at her, and despite the fear in his eyes at her display of power, he looked back up at her and grinned slowly. He held up a piece of parchment clutched in his right fist and she realised with a sinking clarity that he was holding part of the copy of the talisman that she'd summoned from him earlier. She frowned at her left hand which now held the other piece of what was in his hand. He must have snatched it from her just before the Portkey grasped him out of her hold.

Ginny didn't waste any time. He'd only gotten part of the copy, but she didn't know what other information the other side had. She let the Portkey close and turned back to the table. A snap of her fingers had the rest of the information zooming into the leather satchel lying on the ground. She didn't waste time going back to McGonagall's office and using the Floo. She simply closed her eyes and in a burst of flame, disappeared from the Hogwarts library.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed in his Muggle hotel room and rubbed his aching head. Unlike the headaches of his youth, he was pretty sure this headache wasn't caused by Voldemort; rather it was caused by endless discussions on diplomacy and the monotonous drone of Ministry officials. His job was more about appearances than actual work, but that didn't make it less boring.

And he missed Ginny. His magic missed her, his body missed her, his soul missed her. If he'd doubted Dumbledore's words before, he didn't now. His soul, which had apparently been feeding off of hers for weeks, was now like an addict looking for a fix. He felt a restlessness inside of him, as if the power was seeking her and was frustrated when it couldn't find her. They'd tried to connect once, but the energy in maintaining the link over such a distance wasn't worth the effort. It seemed they'd found a limit to how far they could stretch thing after all.

He sighed wearily and removed his socks and shoes before standing up and taking off his robes and shirt. He'd just unbuttoned the top of his slacks when there was a bright burst of flame in the center of the room. It burned for only a moment before it disappeared, leaving a breathless, and glowing Ginny behind.

"Harry!"

"Ginny?" He crossed the room in two quick strides and took her in his arms. "What are you doing here?"

"Had to come," she gasped, fighting for breath. She groaned and leaned forward to rest her body against his. "Damn, that took a lot out of me."

"Did you just flame across the Atlantic?" He was shocked at the thought.

"No," she said, panting for breath. "Been doing it in jumps. Bill told me…the coordinates of the Ministry Apparation points…to get across the Atlantic. I landed in Florida an hour ago." She closed her eyes wearily and Harry bent his knees to lift her up in his arms. He cradled her, one arms behind her knees, and carried her over to the bed where he set her down and removed the heavy satchel she was carrying.

"How did you find me? Did Bill give you those coordinates too?"

She shook her head and sank down onto the pillows. "No. Been following my instinct," she mumbled. "Could feel you, getting closer and closer until I knew where you were. My soul...felt like it was getting hungrier and hungrier."

Harry didn't know whether to be worried that she'd attempted such a foolish thing or astounded at her strength. He still had a lot to learn about this connection they shared.

"Is something wrong?" He asked in sudden alarm. "Why would you risk magical exhaustion to come here?"

She fought to open her eyes and when she spoke, the mixture of English and Gaelic betrayed how tired she was. He only understand bits of it, but got enough to comprehend that someone had been after the talisman. That she'd been followed since he left England over a week ago. She figured it all out, she said, and if they wanted to destroy the talisman, they only had five days in which to do it. There was more but he didn't catch it all before she lapsed into a deep sleep that he couldn't shake her from.

Frustrated, both at the lack of information and the fact that his body was raring to possess hers, he cursed softly and stood up. He lifted her gently and peeled back the blankets. He quickly removed her shoes and with a wave of his hand, banished her clothes to the other side of the room. His cock twitched at the sight of her naked flesh, but he ruthlessly shoved the arousal aside and covered her up with the blankets.

Harry picked up the bag he'd taken from her and carried it into the other room, shutting the bedroom door softly behind him. He turned on the desk lamp and opened the bag, determined to find the source of her sudden flight to New York.

The amount of research Ginny had gathered and organised since Bintliff had first handed the talisman over was astounding. In eight months, she had recreated an outline of the events surrounding the discovery of the talisman and had tracked down each member of the original fated expedition. A timeline she'd constructed showed the history of the talisman from its speculative beginnings to present day. Hermione would have been proud.

Harry let the last piece of parchment fall back to the hotel room table and sighed. Centuries of existence and all the talisman had ever done was spawn one of the most evil pureblood wizarding families in existence. It had to be destroyed; and if he understood Ginny's notes, it had to be destroyed in the same spot it'd been created on the dawn of the summer solstice.

Or, in other words, they had less than five days to track down an ancient and long-forgotten Mayan village in the middle of central Mexico.

Great. No problem. Piece of cake.

Harry groaned and slumped forward on the table, banging his forehead lightly on the edge. No wonder Ginny had run to him. He couldn't believe he'd ever left. He should have placed this mission above traveling to New York to placate the Americans.

He was startled out of his guilt and self-pity by the ringing of the telephone. He lunged for it, worried the ringing would wake Ginny.

"Hello?"

"Harry?"

"Hermione?"

"Harry," Hermione's voice was filled with relief. "Are you okay? Is Ginny with you? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," he assured her. He could hear one of the twins fussing in the background and imagined Hermione rocking the baby while pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder. "She's exhausted from traveling so far, so quickly, but she should be okay. She's asleep right now."

"Thank goodness," Hermione sighed. "We were so worried. She showed up here two hours ago spouting some nonsense about needing to find you and wanting to tell us she was leaving. Harry, I don't think I've ever seen her more frantic. She would barely listen to reason. I tried to make her wait to see if we could get her an emergency Portkey, but she said that she couldn't risk anyone knowing she was going to you. That she was being watched."

Harry stood straighter. Ginny had mentioned that she'd been followed but he had been too concerned about her sudden appearance to dwell on it. Her words came rushing back now. Things were getting worse by the minute.

"What did she mean by that?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said carefully. "We're in the middle of something…delicate. She said something about it when she got here, but she was so tired…" His voice trailed off. A horrible thought had just occurred to him. If someone had been after Ginny, then they were probably watching him too. He looked down at the phone in his hand. He'd heard of phones being bugged with Muggle recording devices. Was someone listening in right now?

He felt foolish for the thought, but then he heard the gurgle of one of Hermione and Ron's sons on the other line and he realised in horror that if someone had been listening, they would be very interested in how much Hermione or the rest of the Weasley family knew. He put the phone back up to his ear.

"Hermione, let me talk to Ron."

"But Harry –"

"Now, Hermione." His tone brokered no room for argument.

She sighed and there was a scuffling noise on the other end before he heard, "What's up, mate?"

"Ron," Harry said carefully. "I don't know exactly what is going on, but Ginny and I have been working on something…tricky, and she may have been followed here –"

"Bloody hell –"

"Listen," Harry said forcefully. "If she was, then they probably know where she went before she left. Do you understand?"

There was a beat of silence and then Ron sharply said, "Yes." His best friend was no longer speaking. Ron the Auror had taken his place.

"I think, just to be safe, you should grab the family and get to the place where we hid with the Order. The _entire_ family, do you understand?" Ron had helped Harry with a lot of the enchantments and wards surrounding Grimmauld Place and he knew better than anyone else what the place was capable of. He was also the only other person alive who knew where Harry kept a special set of contingent plans for the house should it ever need to be hidden from wizards again.

"Yes, but what the hell –"

"I can't explain," Harry said. "Just trust me. It's probably overkill…but just in case you know."

"I know." Ron's voice was hard and Harry panged to think that he'd put that tone in his voice.

"I'll be in touch," Harry promised.

"How long?"

"Five days," he said. "Don't leave until we come home."

"Okay." Ron hesitated. "Be careful, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Take care of my sister or you won't want to return home," he warned.

Harry laughed. "I think your sister can take care of herself but I will. I wonder if whoever's been following her knows what exactly they've been trailing."

"I hope she gets a chance to show them." Ron's voice was feral.

Harry said goodbye and hung up the phone. He had no idea if he was overreacting but sending the Weasley's into safety was an almost gut reaction. He couldn't bear it if anything happened to them. He was sure Ginny hadn't been careless on purpose. It was her first mission after all.

Speaking of Ginny…he opened the bedroom door and peeked inside the room. She was still sleeping soundly. He closed the door and found his shoes. He was wired up now and couldn't possibly sleep, especially with her so close. He had noticed that she hadn't brought any bags with her except the one with all her notes and Malforne's diary. There were several shops on the lower levels of this hotel. He'd just pop down and get her a few things. She'd need it where they were going.

Before he left, he closed his eyes and sent his senses searching for evidence of any listening devices that might have planted in the hotel suite. He thought his search was thorough but since he was unsure exactly what he was looking for, he couldn't be sure he didn't miss something. His libido roared in protest when his senses encountered the white hot heat that was Ginny sleeping in his bed. Damn, he'd missed her.

Harry left the suite, but not before placing several alarms and wards on the door. No one could get in or out while he was gone.

Ginny returned to consciousness slowly. She stretched her limbs, feeling refreshed after her night's sleep. Snippets of the day before returned in full force and she sat up suddenly. "Harry!"

Throwing back the covers, she sprang out of bed and opened the bedroom door. "Harry?"

He was just entering the room with several shopping bags, but his head whipped up when she called his name.

"Ginny!" He dropped the bags and she moved towards him. They met in the middle of the room, Ginny immediately jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist, and Harry wrapping both arms around her. He shuddered, thankful to be close to her again. His magic soared, but he pushed it back, knowing they needed to talk before drowning in each other.

It was very hard to remind himself of this when a completely naked Ginny was currently wiggling her hips over his sudden erection while she pressed urgent kisses over his face, working her way down to his lips. Their mouths meshed and melded on a mutual groan. His hands roamed freely, anxious to feel every inch of her.

Several desperate snogs later, Ginny slid breathlessly down his legs and backed away. "Goddess, I missed you."

"I know." Harry's eyes were practically glowing with suppressed desire and he bit back another moan when she turned around to go back into the bedroom. The tattoo he'd secretly spelled onto her arse was still there; the "Property of Harry Potter" glowing with a faint green and flashing lightning bolt. She returned quickly, his robe wrapped around her.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. I'm sorry to scare you but I discovered –"

"I know," He said grimly. He waved his hand, casting a _Muffilato_ charm on the room. "I read your research while you were asleep. We've got to get Mexico."

She nodded again. "There's more. Someone was following me the entire time you were gone –"

She was cut off by his nod. "I know that too, you managed to tell me before you passed out. And then Hermione called. After talking to her, I got worried about your family. I mean if someone is looking for us…"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Merlin, Harry, I hadn't thought of that!" She rushed to the phone and picked it up. "We've got to tell them to get to safety!"

"Relax," Harry took the receiver from her hand and replaced it in the cradle. "I sent them to Grimmauld Place. They'll be safe there until we get back from Mexico."

"Thank you," she said in relief. "I'm so stupid. I just wanted someone to know where I'd gone. I hadn't even thought of them going after Bill or Hermione."

"There's more," she said, twisting the ties of his robes in her hands. "I was in the library yesterday and went to find an almanac so I could figure out the date of the solstice. When I got back to the table, there was a man there looking through my notes."

"Who was he?"

"I think he was an Auror," she said honestly. "He had on Auror robes."

"It could have been a trick," Harry suggested. "A disguise."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. We fought, but he managed to Portkey away. But I was able to look into the Portkey tunnel – he landed somewhere in the Ministry."

"I'm sure of it," she insisted at Harry's skeptical look. "I'd recognise that ugly green tile anywhere. He could see I was watching though and just as someone was about to enter the room, he shouted at them to stay away. I think he was afraid of revealing whoever was behind the door. It must be someone we know."

"Wait, how do you look into a Portkey tunnel?" Harry asked confusedly. "I didn't know it was possible."

"S'not easy," she said. "But it can be done. It was more instinct than anything else. I had to find out who had sent him."

Harry frowned. "If he's from the ministry – whether it's an official capacity or not – we can't trust anyone."

Ginny agreed. "We've got to get to Mexico really soon. What's the fastest way?"

"Portkey," he said absentmindedly. "I can make us one."

"Won't the ministry know?"

He shook his head. "No. Remus taught me the charm years ago."

"Wish I'd had one of those earlier," she said grumpily. "Instead of flaming halfway around the world."

Harry's face softened. "You shouldn't have done that. You could have killed yourself." He stepped forward and took her into his arms again. "But I'm awfully glad to see you." She smiled up at him and he kissed her again, unable to stop himself.

They broke away panting and she suddenly noticed the bags he'd dropped by the front door.

"What're those?"

"Oh." Harry released her and walked back to gather the packages. "I noticed you didn't pack any clothes so I went downstairs and bought you some things. You're going to need it where we're going."

"You've been shopping?"

"Well, you could parade that gorgeous body of yours in front of _me_, but I'd take exception to the concierge downstairs seeing it." He came near, dumping the packages on the sofa.

"You actually went into a lingerie shop?" She pulled out bras and underwear and held them up, eyeing the garments, then him. "And you had fun, I see." They were sheer and sexy, more for a corner of the bedroom floor than for good foundation support. Thoughts of rushing to Central America and searching for dead civilizations flew out of Ginny's head with a speed that should have been embarrassing.

His face reddened. "Hell."

She laughed lightly and went to him, her arms sliding around his waist. "Thank you. Your sacrifice will be rewarded."

"I was hoping for a fashion show." He wiggled his brows, and then kissed her, softly at first, and then there was no stopping it. "You have no idea how much I missed you," He breathed into her mouth. Ginny moaned in agreement and deepened the kiss, pawing his chest muscles. He opened the robe, sliding his hands over her warm flesh, and Ginny dissolved as his big hands rode her spine, cupped her buttocks. He pulled her to him, letting her feel the delicious hardness thrusting against his trousers and she ran a hand against him, magically lowering his zipper as she did so. She drove her hand inside.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Harry knew they should probably get dressed and get going, but his magic was straining at the lids he was keeping on it. Making time to make love with her was suddenly paramount to the success of their mission.

"And here I thought you were so smart." He grew harder in her palm and she stroked him heavily as his mouth tore over hers, then down her throat, his breathing hot and fast in her ear.

"Come to bed with me," she whispered and pushed out of his arms, heading back to the room. She let the robe slide off her shoulders and to the floor, tossing him a sleek smile over her shoulder.

"Just the way I like you," he said, and scooped up the robe, following. In the bedroom, he closed the door and leaned back.

She faced him, easing back on the bed. "Come on, Potter. Get naked."

Harry grinned at her. "Yes, ma'am." As he did, she lay back on the mound of pillows, her own hands roaming her body. Seeing it made him harder, and he cursed when the knots of his shoelaces were stubborn.

"Harry."

He looked up.

"Relax."

Something in him settled, and he watched her twist on the bed. "Touch yourself," he said.

Her eyes flared a brief flash of gold and he watched like a greedy miser as her hands slid down between her legs. She spread a little and fingered herself for a moment, feeling sexy and decadent. His reaction was worth it. He went still as glass.

"You, too."

Harry stood at the foot of the bed, all muscle and naked, his hand on his erection, stroking himself, watching her dip her fingers to come back slick and wet. The sight aroused him to madness and he knelt on the bed in front of her. "That seems such a waste of fun," he growled and draped her legs over his thighs. "Watch me."

He dragged his finger down her divide, rasping over her plump little bead, then with two fingers pushed into her. She arched hard. "You're so hot and wet."

"Then do something about it."

"I can't wait to make you scream." Touching her was an erotic pleasure all its own. He could feel his soul screaming to merge with hers. It was an odd feeling, as if his soul was a separate tangible thing with a mind of its own. But then their souls had been feeding off each other for months without either of them knowing about it so he supposed anything was possible.

"You'll make me come if you keep that up." Her breath hissed out as he withdrew and circled the bundle of nerves. She flexed with each stroke, offering a view of every secret she possessed, and he wanted to explore her again and again and never stop. Harry leaned forward, kissing her mouth briefly before cupping her buttocks and bringing her closer. The heat of her sex pushed to his erection, making him want to drive into her like a madman.

Her thighs over his lap and around his hips, she was spread like a fine dessert, and he bent, taking her nipple deep into the heat of his mouth. He sucked and laved, his finger occasionally dipping between her thighs. She writhed, reaching between them to fondle him.

"You're playing with me."

"Oh, hell yeah."

"Keep going."

He laughed and his mouth moved down her belly, nibbled at her hip, then in one motion he scooped her up and laid his mouth heavily over her center.

"Harry!" She cursed something in Gaelic and came apart in seconds, her body rippling with pleasure. And he kept giving it, pushing two fingers deep inside her to feel her delicate muscles clamp him. Her lush moans caught in the chest, her panting made him long to hear more, and it was a long breathless moment before he lowered her to the bed.

"All that tension is finally gone?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes. I feel so noodley," she panted, laughing at herself.

"Mission accomplished."

She met his gaze, pulling him to her. "Yes, but that was teasing." He lay down with her and she reached between them, her fingers closing over him. She rode up and down, her grip gentle and measured, and his eyes flared a dark green before he was kissing her, drowning in her, pushing his tongue between her lips and sweeping wildly.

"Let's see what you like, Harry Potter, my hero."

"Oh, no, hero worship, _again_."

She sent him a feline smile. His hands were warm and tender as they swept her body, shaped her. "What shall I do with you?" Ginny mused.

She shifted and took him into her mouth, diving deeply and it made him dig his fingers into her shoulders. She tortured him, making him groan, grit his teeth, and when he was moving against her, she rose, motioning with her head. He obeyed and she put her hands on the headboard and met his gaze over her shoulder. The look on his face was indefinable.

Harry moved behind her; he nudged her thighs apart and slid into her in one long push.

She gasped at the thick, solid feel of him. It had only been nine days since they'd last done this, but it was nine days too long. "Oh, my…this I like."

Harry realised in a moment that he was actually living every fantasy he'd ever had and he slammed his eyes shut. There was a mirror a few feet away on the wall, subtly positioned for this. He nudged her. She looked, her pleasure rising at the view of them, his grip on her hips, the strain of desire on his face and rippling down his body. His hips thrust forward, hers pushed back. And still he kept his magic from merging with hers. The anticipation of it was a mixture of pleasure and pain.

They pumped and pumped, his erection thick and near bursting, her folds slick and gripping him like claws. Suddenly he stopped, and turned her around, entering her again, laying her flat and hovering over her.

"I want to see your face." Slowly he moved.

Sliding and pushing, hard skin met delicate softness, muscles bending for her when he wanted to slam, and becoming oblivious to anything but the sensations of being deep inside her. But it was his soul that kept him with her in this moment, and as he stared down into her now-golden eyes, he knew he'd never felt anything so intimate, so crushing. He was suddenly humbled. "Ginny."

"Oh, Harry." There were tears in her eyes. "You do this to me so well."

"We do," he said on a kiss. He was in tune with her, and he quickened, taking her with him as he sat back on his haunches, his strong hands guiding her hips, her feet planted on the mattress.

Their gazes locked, their bodies undulating.

The climax didn't come like the unleashed beast they'd experienced many times before, but in a steady spine-tingling pulse -- the climb unmeasured, but together. She cupped his face and slid on his erection, the base of him rubbing her just right, the head of him touching her womb.

"I can't get close enough to you.' She heard the frustration and passion in her own voice, a hidden plea for more than his loving.

"I know, I know baby." He cupped her face, understanding and wanting the same thing.

Ginny needed the link, the bond she'd lived without for what felt like a lifetime – even if it was less than two weeks. Her heart cried for it. "Mark me, Harry. Merge with me."

"Yes," he whispered against her lips, thrusting upward once and hard. Their magic melded seamlessly and everything in him ruptured, breaking apart for her, taking her inside himself. And Harry knew something had been cemented. He could feel it taking root inside of him, of them. They'd never had a fighting chance to be anything less, which was fine because he didn't want one.

Ginny trapped him to her, her heart tripping over itself as she leaned back, fusing with him, pleasure erupting in a fast slide to a wicked stop. Her nerves were raw and open, and she felt her body grip him, the full weight of him on her as they collapsed in a wild tangle of limbs.


End file.
